


hopefully not too far

by sharoncarters



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-05-03 20:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 27,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5305880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharoncarters/pseuds/sharoncarters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Steve/Sharon tumblr asks/drabbles. Feel free to send an ask my way <a href="http://www.jessaminelovelace.tumblr.com/ask">here</a>!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Exhausted Parents Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> i originally had this as a collection but i thought it would be easier to just have it as one giant work with multiple chapters instead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asked by 13-infinity on tumblr

Sharon waves baby Nat’s hands at Steve while she’s in the process of putting her to bed. She’s been restless lately, more so than her sister. Usually, they do everything together: eat, sleep – pee, ugh; that always requires both her and Steve to clean it up – but Nat had somehow acquired a cold on her own and her sister hadn’t. (Sharon blames Natasha, but not really. It’s not like she could’ve predicted the weather, and she’d followed all of Sharon’s clothing instructions to a T.)

Honestly, they were bound to do their own thing eventually. Sharon figures a few months in is as good a time as any. 

That’s why they’re both currently up at three AM tending to their child, sleepy and past the point of exhaustion - it’s the fourth night this week that their baby has woken up screaming and crying from her illness. 

“Say goodnight to Daddy,” Sharon says to her daughter as she bounces her up and down in their bed. She grins at Steve when Nat makes a few gurgling nosies. 

“How are you so chipper right now?” Steve asks her, raising an eyebrow. Usually he’s fine with no sleep, but work and taking care of the girls is starting to get to him too. 

“It’s probably all the coffee that I’m finally allowed to have,” she smiles, raising Natasha up to him for a kiss. He places one on their daughter’s forehead, and she leans in for one of her own.

It’s a quick peck, affectionate, one that she still can’t get used to no matter how many times he does it. She closes her eyes slightly at the sensation, reluctantly pulling away. 

“Go back to sleep,” she tells him, “I’ll be back in a couple minutes.” 

“Mmm, hurry.” 


	2. Steve's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's point of view of a scene from my longer Staron fic, "like ships in the night".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of an ask meme, anon asked for "POV" and I chose to write Steve's point of view of the kiss in chapter 6 of my other fic, "like ships in the night".

He doesn’t know why he does it. Okay, that’s a lie, yes he does. He does it because he’s itching to do  _something_ and they’re probably going to get caught and he doesn’t want to hurt more people than necessary, even if they  _are_ Hydra.

He does it because he likes her.

He does it because despite everything, she has nestled into his heart and settled there and he doesn’t know how to get her out and doesn’t particularly want to. 

What’s surprising, mostly, is the sound that she makes, like she’s completely taken off guard by the fact that he would ever want to kiss her. For all of her talk, Sharon Carter is suddenly hesitant and shy. He likes it more than he probably should. And he especially likes the one fleeting moment where they forget who they are, that she’s a Carter and he’s Captain America, and they’re just Steve and Sharon, just for a few seconds. They forget that it’s  _wrong_  and that they  _shouldn’t_ , and they just do it anyway. 

Her hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him closer, her mouth insistent and soft against his own. His hands on her face, a fire inside of him that only ever seems to ignite when she’s around. 

It’s not just for the mission. It never could’ve been. 


	3. Hospital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon asked "staron prompt: post surgery, completely drugged up and accidently confesses their love for the other whilst so".

Sharon wakes up in the hospital groggy and confused. It’s not the first time that she’s been in a hospital, obviously, but it  _is_  the first time that she can’t remember why she’s there.

It might be the drugs, but she’s worried that she might have hit her head during some mission or other. It worries her even more that she simply can’t  _remember_.

She lets out a little groan, adjusting herself into a sitting position on the bed. And that’s when she notices him. Steve Rogers, in her hospital room. Perched on a chair near the door, magazine in hand, suddenly sitting up in attention and starting at her - with relief? That can’t be right.

The last time she’d seen Steve he’d been completely  _pissed_  at her, and rightly so, because she had been concealing her identity and spying on him, even though she did have good intentions.

She can’t imagine why he’s in  _her_  hospital room, of all places. Normally Nat would be there, and more often than not Sharon wakes up alone, a call from Aunt Peggy waiting in her voicemail. (Before she’d progressed into the late stages of her Alzheimer’s, that is.)

And now Steve is sitting there, looking at her.

“What are you doing here?” she croaks out, coughing a few times afterwards to clear her post-surgery and sleep coated throat.

His brow furrows. He almost looks angry, which, rude. She’s the one in the hospital bed, not him. “How many times are you going to do this to me?” he asks her, soft and low in a way that she’s never heard before, and she’s so entirely confused by what’s happening.

“Do what? Steve, I haven’t seen you in months, what-”

His eyes darken, and his face screws up into an expression that she can only describe as devastation. “I’m getting the doctor.”

 

 

* * *

 

So, turns out she has some memory loss. Immediately her mind jumps to Peggy, knowing that the disease is hereditary, but the doctor assures her that it’s nothing like that.

Turns out that she  _did_  sustain damage to her head during an op, but she can’t remember exactly what had happened. Fucking Hydra. She’s due to have her memory back within a few days, though, so no biggie.

She’d been on the mission with Steve, which is why he was there when she woke up. But it doesn’t explain why he’s staying. Sharon didn’t think that his niceness extended this far, but she  _has_  forgotten some apparently important things, so. Maybe it does.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” she asks him on the second day, when he shows up freshly washed and wearing a black t-shirt that should not look as good as it does on him.

 _God_ , she needs a shower. Preferably a cold one, if he keeps sticking around.

He shakes his head, looking at her amusedly, one corner of his mouth turned up. “Our mission’s over. Plus, I feel guilty. It’s my fault you were there in the first place.” That’s not what he made it seem like before. More likely than not she’d gone and done something impulsive and had smacked her head against the wall as a consequence. 

But she has no problem playing along. Sharon gasps, faking anger. “I knew you weren’t here just to be nice. Who knew Captain America could have such awful ulterior motives.” She shakes her head in mock disappointment, grinning at him.

He just rolls his eyes at her.

 

 

* * *

 

“Hey,” Sharon says to him a day after that. “Shouldn’t my boyfriend be here?” She had woken up from a particularly steamy dream that had seemed a little too realistic for her mind to come up with on its own, and had woken up with the realization that she has a boyfriend.

An incredible boyfriend, one that she loves a lot, if the dream and other vague memories that she’s been able to conjure up are to be trusted (because she has to love anyone that can make her orgasm that many times, she’s not even ashamed).

Steve just looks at her, weirdly at a loss for words for the first time since he’s been hanging around. “I guess you don’t know him,” she muses, and his mouth quirks up again, in that stupid way that she’s gotten used to over the past few days.

He shakes his head, laughing slightly to himself. “Sorry, yeah, I know him.”

“Oh.” Sharon’s mouth turns downward, confused for the umpteenth time in less than a week. This has to be a record, even for her. Her memories need to come back soon, because this entire situation is getting irritating. “Well?” she prods, “why isn’t he here?”

Steve shrugs, which just makes her even more frustrated. Why can’t she just  _remember_?

“He’s probably just busy,” Steve tells her, and she scrunches her nose in irritation. If her boyfriend loves her as much as she (thinks) she loves him, shouldn’t he be here no matter what?

She decides to drop the subject, though, at least for the moment.

 

 

* * *

 

“What do you remember?” Steve asks her after she finishes her shitty hospital dinner. He’s scooted his chair closer to her bed so that she doesn’t have to strain her voice to talk to him. “Anything specific about your boyfriend?”

Sharon blushes, not sure why she suddenly feels so embarrassed and shy about it. She knows that Steve doesn’t have feelings for her or anything. They’re just friends. Obviously good ones, if he’s decided to stick around and take care of her for so long.

“A few memories have come back, but they’re all just vague and… whatever.” And  _hot_ , but she’s not about to tell him that. “I really love him,” she says, sort of proud of that fact. She’s only ever loved a few people in her life, none of them romantically. He has to be really special that she can remember  _that_  before a lot of other things, right? Even if she can’t really remember  _who_  he is. Or his name. Just, like. Feelings, and a vague body shape. 

Steve gapes at her, looking more stunned than she’s ever seen him. Or maybe she has seen it before and just can’t remember. This whole memory loss thing sucks ass.

Then he seems to remind himself of something, and his lips curve into an easy grin. “He’s a lucky guy,” Steve tells her, and that’s incentive enough for her to drop the subject, because feelings are gross and even though Steve is her friend (maybe her friend? she has no idea), she’d rather not talk about this for any longer than necessary.

 

* * *

 

“I hate you,” is the first thing Sharon says when he walks in the next day. The smile he gives her is blinding, and her heart jumps at the sight of it.

Apparently her attraction to him shouldn’t have made her feel as guilty as it did.

“That’s not what you said yesterday,” he teases, walking over to the bed.

“Yeah, well,  _yesterday_  I didn’t have all of my memories back.” She pauses, and then adds, “ _boyfriend_ ,” scathingly. She didn’t know that they didn’t say their “I love you’s" yet, and is sort of peeved that she blurted it out without realizing that  _he_  was the boyfriend in question. 

He just laughs easily, brushing her hair out of her face and leaning in to kiss her. The heart monitor betrays her annoyed tone, beeping loudly as he deepens the kiss. He pulls back slightly, leaving her breathless and wanting more. Okay, so maybe she’s not as angry as she says she is. 

She clearly had no need to hide those memories (and dreams) from him, because he’d had a part in making them. Who knew Steve Rogers was so raunchy. (She did, apparently.)

“So you love me, huh?” he grins cheekily at her.

“At the moment, no,” she says, but she’s smiling anyway. 

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You’re one to talk,  _neighbor_.”


	4. Babies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buckorogers on tumblr asked, "prompt where steve and sharon take their baby girls home from the hospital for the first time and cute parent tag teaming occurs pretty pls with a cherry on top".

“You okay?” Steve asks, brushing her hair off of her face as he opens the door to their house. Their  _house_ , not apartment, that they’d bought when they found out that Sharon was pregnant. Tony couldn’t stop laughing when she told him. (Still, his present was the largest and most extravagant of the lot. He’s a softie, whether or not he wants to admit it.) 

“Yeah,” she nods, leaning into his touch. “Just tired.” Steve carries both carseats in his arms like they weigh nothing, and she eyes his arms. He’s her  _husband_. If she had told herself three years ago after the fall of SHIELD that she’d be married to Steve Rogers, delivering his children, she would’ve slapped herself in the face. 

But now, it seems like the most natural thing in the world. The two babies are completely wrapped up, snug in their blankets, while Steve makes her a cup of hot chocolate. He pulls her into his lap on the couch after she’s finished drinking it. 

“Look at what we made,” he murmurs, his lips brushing her ear. Despite her fatigue, she shivers. He just has that effect on her. 

“They’re pretty cute, aren’t they?” 

“The absolute cutest.” 

She leans her head back against his chest. “I love you so much,” she says softly, like it’s a secret. Maybe because it is. He’s the one person in her life that she’s been brave enough to say the words to. They belong to him. 

“Love you too,” he breathes, pressing a warm kiss into her shoulder. “Let’s get them into bed.” 

 

 

* * *

 

Sharon feels, more than hears, the screams from the other room on the baby monitor. She doesn’t even need to hear them, really, because they happen like clockwork. Once Meg starts crying, Nat follows suit. Her groan is inevitable. She hates mornings, has  _always_ hated mornings, and she’s not surprised that this is still the case even though she’s a mother now.  _Fuck_ , she still can’t get over it. She has babies. More than one. With Captain America. 

Speaking of, she nudges him. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, but she can tell he’s not bothered by it. He practically never sleeps anyway – it’s a side effect of the serum. Constant energy buzzing inside of him, which he used to work off slightly by running in the mornings. He can’t really do that anymore. 

Steve presses a warm kiss to her forehead before he goes into the girls’ room. She hears him coo softly at them and can’t stop the smile from forcing its way onto her face. Those girls are going to grow up so spoiled. 

Sharon gets up, deciding that there’s no way that she’s going to fall asleep again anytime soon, and even if she did, it’d be too late. She’d promised Natasha that she would let her see the girls soon, and it’s been two weeks. Nat was notorious for her impatience. 

She lets out a yawn, wandering into the nursery, where Steve is expertly cradling a girl in each arm. (Sharon had almost had a nervous breakdown when the doctor had told her the news.  _Twins_ , christ. She’d practically lost consciousness right there on the hospital bed. She had gripped Steve’s hand so hard that he let out a sound of discomfort, which, knowing him, was a feat in and of itself.) But somehow, they’re managing. 

She looks at her girls, her  _daughters_ , in Steve’s arms, and feels so much love that she can barely contain it. If she thought Steve had made her happy, this had multiplied her happiness by a thousand percent. 

Sharon takes Meg from him, cradling her and leaning against one of his arms. The girls were surprisingly unfussy. All they really ever wanted was their parents, so they stopped crying pretty much the moment either one of them walked in the room. Sharon had named Meg (Margaret) after Peggy. It was only right. And Nat, well. Laura had already disappointed her there, and Natasha was an important part of both Steve and Sharon’s lives. If it wasn’t for her incessant nagging, they probably would’ve never met. 

“Look at them,” Sharon whispers, leaning against him. “They’re perfect.” 

He leans over to kiss her. “They take after their mother.” She bites her lip, elbowing him. 

“Ass-kisser,” she teases. 

He fake-gasps, covering Tasha’s ears. The little girl squirms in his arms. “They better not get your language, though. Lord knows it’s gotten you in enough trouble.” 

Sharon gives him a cheeky grin, vividly remembering an incident involving Clint Barton, a Hydra agent, and a bottle of rum. 

“Let’s just get them fed,” she says, walking towards the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

“Applesauce,” Sharon commands, and Steve tosses it to her. In the short time that the twins had come home from the hospital, they’ve developed a foolproof feeding routine. Steve distributes, Sharon feeds, and both of the girls are happy. They get weirdly jealous if one parent feeds one of them, and the other parent feeds the second, so Sharon had quickly learned to feed them both at once. 

Natasha’s grinning at baby Tasha, incredibly pleased. “She’s skinnier than the other brat,” Nat declares, tickling her. Tasha giggles. 

“No need to hold a grudge,” Steve chides, leaning on the counter, coffee in hand, watching Sharon fondly. “You got what you wanted.” 

“Mmm.” She pauses, cocks her head. “I can probably teach them to beat him up.” 

“You’re impossible,” Sharon tells her, feeding Meg another mouthful of the mushy baby food. “Isn’t she? Isn’t Auntie Nat just so silly?” she asks Meg, as if the baby can answer her. (She never thought she’d be  _this_ person, but she weirdly likes it. She loves Steve, and she loves her girls. They’re the best thing she’s ever made, if she’s being honest with herself. It’s nice to create, for once, instead of destroy.) 

Meg gurgles, smacking her hand on the highchair. “That’s my girl.”   

  

* * *

 

“Steve,” Sharon gasps, his tongue doing incredible things to her neck at the moment. “ _Fuck_.” It’s been too long since they’ve done anything, and she just needs this. She hasn’t slept in what feels like months, and she needs him. It’s a literal need, warm and insistent in every part of her body. 

And then, of course, the babies decide to start crying. “I hate my life,” she declares, as Steve starts to pull away. 

“No you don’t.” 

She just glares at him. 

  

* * *

 

Sharon starts taking the girls with her when she goes on runs with Steve. They take turns pushing the stroller, even though it’s mostly her job, because Steve is an annoying show-off and they start crying when he runs too fast. 

Sam finds it incredibly amusing, grinning and making faces at them when he passes, sometimes stopping to talk to them. It’s nice, the routines that they’ve created for themselves. How easily the babies have fit into their lives, like they were always meant to be there. Even though they  _do_  occasionally interfere with her Steve time, she can’t blame them for loving him as much as she does. 

He’s lovable. She’s used to it by now. 


	5. Babies, Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13-infinity on tumblr said "i could really use some more staron baby girls fic..." well. ask and you shall receive

Steve’s on a mission, so Sharon has decided to spend some time with Tony and her girls. He hasn’t seen them in a while, and it’s only fair to invite him over - he is their godfather, after all.  

It’s sort of annoying that she can’t be in the field with her husband, considering they’ve been building up their partnership skills for years now. They’ve developed this habit of being able to anticipate each others’ movements in battle, wordlessly reading facial expressions and hand signals. 

But maternity leave is something that even a SHIELD agent must have, loathe as Sharon is to admit it. Her body needs time to recover, but she’ll be back in the game soon enough. 

For now, though, she’s content to watch Tasha and Meg sleep, curled up against each other in Meg’s crib. They’ve taken to crying when they’re separated at nap time, which is equal parts irritating and adorable, so Steve and Sharon made the decision to just give them what they want and let them sleep together. 

She’s curled up against Tony’s side, cradling a cup of hot chocolate in her hands. Chocolate had been one of her biggest cravings during her pregnancy, and she still craves it even now - although the things she craves to go along with it aren’t as weird. There had been a phase when she was pregnant where she could only drink hot chocolate as long as she had a jar of peanut butter at her side, swallowing large spoonfuls and chugging back the drink afterwards. 

Tangled is playing in the background. She’d put in on for the girls before they fell asleep, and both she and Tony are too lazy to turn it off. And, admittedly, it’s not that bad of a movie. 

They sit in a companionable silence, Tony occasionally making comments about the movie, until one of the babies starts crying. 

With a sigh, Sharon pushes herself off of the couch to go check on them. And that’s when she sees it. 

“Tony,” she starts, calling him into the nursery. “Did you take their headbands off?” 

She turns around to glare at him as he strolls into the room. “Uh… I might have. Unless that will get me in trouble. Because in that case, no. And you probably have a ghost in your house.” 

Sharon closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, running a distressed hand through her hair. “Fuck.” The babies are wearing the same outfit, down to their tiny baby booties and gloves (so that they won’t scratch each other and themselves with their growing fingernails). She had thought it was cute, and the headbands were different colors, which was how she had kept the babies separated in her mind. 

Pink for Meg, purple for Nat. 

“They kept trying to pull them off. I just thought it would be easier for them if they weren’t trying to rip their own hair out trying to get rid of ‘em.” 

“That’s how I tell them apart, Tony, and now I’m kind of-”

“Oh my god.” He sounds unbelievably giddy. “You can’t tell your own children apart?” 

“They’re twins!” she snaps at him, lifting Nat (or is it Meg?  _Fuck_ ) out of the crib. “Identical fucking twins.” 

Tony reaches in to grab the other girl, bouncing her slightly in his arms. He’s surprisingly good with them, she has to admit. Which is normally cute and inspires all sorts of familial feelings from her, except for right now, because he’s being annoyingly smug. “Don’t listen to your grumpy mommy,” he coos at the baby, ignoring Sharon’s glare. “She’s just mad because she has no idea who you are.”

“I do too!” Sharon protests. “That’s Meg.” 

“You sure about that?”

She looks down at the baby in her arms, confidence wavering. “Like, 90 percent.” 

He just grins at her. 

“Oh shut up and help me change them.” His smile quickly falls away. 

 

* * *

 

The entire day is filled with anxiety for Sharon. Instead of being excited about Steve’s return the next morning, she’s dreading it, pacing around every available empty floor space and muttering to herself. 

“I’m a horrible mother,” she says, almost starting to sob. Her pregnancy hormones haven’t completely faded away yet, and this entire situation isn’t helping her relax in the slightest. 

“No you’re not,” Tony insists, rubbing one of her arms soothingly. “I was just kidding, come on. You know your kids.”

“But what if I don’t?” she whines, staring at the identical blonde babies playing on their blanket in the living room. “What if I mixed them up and they grow up thinking they’re each other and I cause a huge identity crisis? They’ll never forgive me.” 

“Sharon,” Tony commands. “Relax. They have the headbands on now, it’s fine.”

“It’s not  _fine_! I told Steve I couldn’t be a mother, I told him. And he was all, ‘you’ll be a great mom, Sharon, there’s nothing to worry about’. Make a baby with me, he said, it’ll be fine, he said, you’re great with Clint’s kids. And then I had to push two of them out of me and I can’t even tell which is which! Oh my god, I am never having sex with him again.”

Tony looks slightly nauseous about her mentioning her sex life, but she doesn’t care. All of this is his fault. 

“I hate you,” she snaps. “You’re no longer their godfather.” 

“Too late, cuz, you’ve already done the paperwork.” 

Sharon groans, covering her face with her hands. 

 

* * *

 

“Okay,” Sharon sits down on the floor next to her two girls, demanding their attention. “Mommy just needs you girls to tell her who you are, yeah? It’ll be easy. So. Natasha,” she starts, as if she’s doing a roll call, and the girl on the left grins. She lets out a sigh of relief, but that’s cut short when the girl on the right starts to laugh too. Shit. 

“Meg,” she says, and the girls look at each other, and then back at her. Oh my God. Why are they doing this to her?

“You do know that they’re not even a year old yet, right?” Tony pipes in from the couch, and she grabs a building block to throw at him. 

“Get out.”

“But I-”

“No, Tony, get out. Come back never.” 

 

* * *

 

Steve comes home the next day and she can’t even look him in the eye. He leans down to give her a kiss and she moves out of the way, so that his lips land on her forehead instead of her mouth. 

He frowns, setting down his travel bag near the front door. 

“Did something happen with Tony?” he asks, trying to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she flinches away. “Sharon…”

That’s when the tears start. She can’t help it. She’s ruined her childrens’ lives already and they haven’t even started yet. How did she manage to fuck everything up so quickly? 

“Steve, I’m so sorry,” she sobs, hugging him around the waist and burying her head into his chest. She can’t bear to look at him; to see the disappointment in his eyes. 

“Sharon, you have to tell me what’s wrong, okay?” he says, tucking his fingers under her chin and tilting her face towards his. “Whatever it is, we can fix it together.” She nods, chin wobbling, and grabs his hand to lead him into the nursery. 

“It’s Tony’s fault. He took off their headbands and I tried to figure it out, I really did, but I’m so tired and I don’t even know my own kids and I’m the worst mother in the history of mothers, ever. Please don’t hate me.”

Steve’s grinning. This is absolutely not what she expected. He tugs at the waistband of her pajamas, pulling her closer to him. His hand works its way through her knotted, tangled hair that she hasn’t touched since she realized her absolutely horrifying mistake. 

“Is that all?” he asks her, and she frowns. 

“What do you mean, ‘is that all’? My children are going to have an identity crisis!” she hisses at him, careful to not wake them up. She barely gets enough sleep because of them, and they really need to deal with one problem at a time. 

Steve wraps an arm around her waist, turning her so that they’re both looking directly at the crib. He points to the baby on the right. “That’s Meg,” he says softly, and then points to the left, “and that’s Tasha.” 

“How do you know?” she asks, hating herself and loving Steve even more all at once. 

“Meg looks more like you,” he offers, fingers stroking her side, “and she sucks the thumb on her right hand. Nat makes those snoring noises.” 

“Yup, I was right, I am officially the worst mother in the entire world. How did I not know what?” 

“You’re stressed,” he tells her, placing a kiss on the crown of her head, “and you don’t get enough sleep.  _And_  you’re the one that always makes me get them in the middle of the night.” 

Sharon breathes a sigh of relief, looking up at him. 

“So you don’t want to get divorced?” she asks him in a hopeful voice, and he laughs, kissing her again. 

“Can’t get rid of me that easily, Mrs. Rogers.” 

She hums in contentment, melting into him. “You say that like I would ever want to.” 


	6. Christmas Photo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buckorogers on tumblr said "so i'm kind of stressed and overwhelmed but a lil staron with their baby girls getting ready for the holidays drabble would definitely make me feel better" and i delivered

“No, Tony, you can’t–” Sharon lets out a defeated sigh and marches over to where he’s sitting with Meg on the living room floor, trying to fit her into a homemade Iron Man suit. She shakes her head at him, grabbing the costume and tossing it on the couch. 

“Oh, come on, Share-Bear, live a little. I think Angie’ll love it if her Christmas card had a little pizzaz. Please, for me?”

“It’s not Halloween, Tony, okay? Please stop trying to turn my children into mini versions of you.”

“Says the woman who named her child after Romanoff.”

“Hey!” Natasha intercedes from the kitchen, “She owed me. I was betrayed.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “And it’s about time women were more appreciated in this SHIELD/Avengers/family/thing, whatever we are,” Natasha adds, which settles him down. It doesn’t stop him from grumbling though, but that’s just Tony.

Nat, who had been feeding Tasha (it’s hard to call them both Nat when they’re in the house at the same time; Sharon doesn’t really want to give her child an inferiority complex at such a young age, okay?) in the kitchen, wanders over and sets the baby down next to her sister. 

They both look adorable in matching red and gold dresses (that’s about all Sharon had allowed Tony, so it’s understandable that she’s a little exasperated at this point. Mini-Iron Man costumes, honestly. He missed his chance two months ago) , all dressed up and ready to take their first ever family Christmas card picture. 

Steve comes out of the bedroom looking incredible, and Sharon has to control herself for a second by looking away. (She secretly loves it, though, the fact that he can take her breath away like this). He tugs on the sleeves of his suit, smiling apologetically at her when she turns back to look at him. 

“It’s uh, been longer than I thought since I last wore this.” Tony snorts, but says nothing as Steve makes his way over and wraps his arm around Sharon’s waist. He places a kiss on her head and she steps back to inspect him, trying to pull his sleeves down. It’s technically not that noticeable, and with the amount of time they’re been spending on the picture at this point, she can’t really be bothered. She just wants to get it over with. 

“I can’t believe you’re  _still_  growing,” Natasha chimes in, shaking her head at Steve. “Stop feeding him.” This she directs at Sharon. 

Tony opens his mouth to say something, and Nat slaps the hand that’s not holding a glass of wine against it. “Nope, nu-uh. Not today.” He wiggles his eyebrows instead. 

Sharon laughs, turning around to look at her girls. They’re smiling at each other, and it honestly melts her heart. Who would’ve known that she was the sentimental type. She motions behind her for Steve, knowing that he’s paying attention, and he comes over and takes Meg while she takes Tasha. 

“Come on,” she says, tickling her daughter, “let’s get this over with while they’re still in a good mood.” 


	7. War's End Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> misskrystalgoderitch on tumblr asked number 9 in an ask meme, which was "war's end" kiss. so here ya go

Sharon grunts as she slams her foot into Rumlow’s chest, causing him to stagger backwards. She can hear the clink of Steve’s shield as he fights off the last of the Hydra agents that they’re up against, his own sounds of exhaustion filling the room as she takes another step towards Rumlow. She nails him with punches in the face and stomach, finally causing him to fall and hit his head, and lets out a relieved gasp. 

They’d been tailing him since after Aunt Peggy’s funeral, when Steve had finally realized who she was, and they’d had a heart to heart. He forgave her a little too easily (in Sharon’s opinion) for her lie, and they started a shaky friendship. 

Eventually she told him about that day on the Triseklion, and had shown him the nasty scar that Rumlow left her. Steve hadn’t hesitated to let her in on his mission afterwards. 

It’s extremely satisfying, to say the least, to finally get her revenge on the Hydra asshole. He’d been making her life miserable ever since the Trisk, calling her up like a creepy stalker, threatening her life, even going so far as to taunt Steve with what he did every time they made contact. 

She can’t wait to watch him rot in jail for the rest of his pathetic life. 

Sharon turns around to look at Steve, visibly exhausted, chest heaving, searching the area for any leftover Hydra agents that might have escaped while they were fighting. His face is banged up and covered in blood, but he gives her a shaky grin anyway, dragging some of his hair out of his face. 

That’s what does it, really – the hair. She’s always been such a sucker for guys running their hands through their hair, blame it on watching too many romcoms or whatever, it’s hot. 

“Fuck it.”

She launches herself at him, arms wrapped around his neck in seconds, and he stumbles backwards in surprise. Sharon’s worried for a second that she’s misinterpreted all of their outings, thinking she’s probably just high off of adrenaline and the excitement that comes with beating the bad guy, because he’s oddly still. 

But then he lets out a soft groan against her mouth, wrapping his arms around her waist, and she smiles against his mouth in relief. One of his arms is still holding the shield, and it feels cool against her back, covering her like a makeshift protective blanket. She tangles her fingers in his hair, not caring that they’re both sweaty and covered in blood and completely running on three hours of sleep. 

She has to pull away eventually, because she’s completely worn out and panting and can barely breathe, and some of us don’t have super-soldier lungs, thank you very much. Steve rests his forehead against hers, breathing heavily, and she’s unable to control her grin. 

“We did it,” he smiles back at her, and she kisses him again, a quick one, but she can’t resist. 

“That we did.” 

“You kind of ruined all of my plans, you know.”

“Oh?” Sharon quirks an eyebrow at him, intrigued. 

“Oh yeah. I was going to invite you over for coffee, you know. Make up for the whole awkward neighbor situation. It was going to be magical.”

She laughs, running her hands along his shoulders, amazed at the fact that she can touch him like this all of a sudden. She likes it; a lot. 

“I don’t know, this seems pretty romantic to me.”

“Mmm,” he hums, kissing her again. They’re both high off of more than the fight; off of each other, this incredible closeness. They should’ve done it a lot sooner. “I’m sure hauling criminals to jail is a turn-on for you, right?”

“Oh, totally. Maybe you can reap the rewards after we’re done here,” she teases, pulling away from him to reach Rumlow, who’s passed out on the floor. “The faster the better,” she adds, because he’s standing there slack-jawed while she’s crossing the room. 

He instantly sprints after her.  


	8. Things You Said When You Thought I Was Asleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13-infinity on tumblr asked "12. things you said when you thought i was asleep, staron (oh?! really?!)". here it is

Sharon’s never been one to allow herself to be vulnerable in front of anyone, especially not if she can help it. (If she’s knocked out, well. That’s a different story.) She’s never really been in a real relationship, had always ended them before they got too serious, or (god forbid) the guy asked her to move in with him. 

When she had one night stands, not that she really had time for them, she always left after the guy fell asleep. 

SHIELD has taught her all the ways in which she can be attacked, and in her sleep is definitely one of them. Which is why it always takes her a good few hours to do so properly, and even then she’s half-awake, always waiting for the next attack, always hyper-vigilant. 

Steve has no idea, obviously. Which is why, after their first time, when she closes her eyes and pretends to drift off, he rolls over and wraps his arms around her waist, whispering “What did I do to deserve you?” in her ear. Safe to say it almost makes her cry, and when she’s sure he’s asleep she sneaks out of his apartment. 

Because she’s a coward. There’s no other reason for it. She doesn’t know how to deal with the depth of her feelings for him, the complicated mess that they’ve gotten themselves into, with Aunt Peggy and Hydra and the rest of it. 

Sharon doesn’t sleep that night. 

 

* * *

 

The next time she actually  _is_  knocked out. Fuck Rumlow. She was sure she had him, but at the last minute he’d shown her that she actually didn’t have the element of surprise on her side, and had thrown her against the wall. She’s literally never hated Hydra more. 

She’s practically awake when she hears Steve’s voice, and she swears that she has never heard him this upset before in her entire life. She’s heard him angry, and sarcastic, and even teasing, but she’s never heard him sound this devastated before. 

“Sharon, please wake up,” he’s saying, and she wants to ask him what exactly he thinks she’s trying to do. It’s sort of hard when stars are dancing behind her eyelids, and she feels like she’s been run over by a fucking tractor. “I can’t lose you, too. Not after everyone, I don’t know what I would do.”

Oh. Oh wow. She feels her heart flutter a bit, so at least she knows she’s still alive. Sharon interrupts him by letting out a weak groan, finally opening her unresponsive eyelids. 

“Oh, thank god,” he breathes, and she lets out a weak laugh, trying to prop herself up on her elbows. 

“Pretty sure I did that on my own, Captain,” she teases, and his smile is almost so blinding that she has to look away. “Help me up.” 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

* * *

 

Sharon hates how good Steve looks even while he’s sleeping. Honestly, what gives him the right? Like it’s not enough that he has super strength and is good at literally everything he does, he has to look like that. She wants to strangle him. 

Except she doesn’t, and what she really wants is to just hold him and never let go. She wants to just live with him in a bubble, pretending that the rest of the world doesn’t exist. She just wants to be with him outside of Aunt Peggy and SHIELD and Hydra and the all of the other problems that bombard them on a daily basis. 

He deserves to be happy. She’s not sure why he’s decided that she makes him happy, but she’s not complaining. Sharon’s lucky enough to even know him. Just being his friend would be enough. 

 “Oh no,” she sighs, staring at the ceiling. “I did something dumb, Steve,” she whispers, turning over to look at him. “I think I fell in love with you.”

“Not dumb,” he murmurs, and she lets out a squeak. 

“I thought you were asleep!” Sharon protests, stabbing her finger into his chest. 

“Mmm, almost,” he smiles slowly at her, opening his eyes. “You wanna talk about it?”

“No.” 

“’S okay,” he says sleepily, pulling her close. “I love you too.”


	9. I Get It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stevesharons on tumblr asked: For the prompt thing: "Everyone I talk to mentions you at some point and I didn’t get it but now we’ve met and I do. I definitely do." + stevesharon (wow surprise there, no one saw it coming).

Peggy mentions her offhandedly. She probably has no idea that she’s even said it, because the next second she’s looking at him like it’s the first time (again, because she does it a lot and it hurts just as much every time), tears in her eyes and, “Steve, it’s been so _long_ ”. But afterwards, when he’s alone in his apartment, the comment springs up in his mind again. 

“My niece Sharon reminds me so much of you, Steve,” she had said, right before her relapse in memory. “I should introduce you.” 

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t put it together until Maria mentions something about her working at the CIA now. They’re going through paperwork at the Tower, having a casual conversation about where everyone went after SHIELD fell. Hill’s here with Stark, obviously. 

“Carter went over to the CIA, who knows where Romanoff went–”

Steve cuts her off. “Carter?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing. It can’t be, there’s _no_ way. 

“Yeah, I thought you knew? She was the one assigned to you last year?”

“I never learned her last name.” 

Maria drops it, but Steve can’t stop thinking about her. _That_ was Sharon Carter. Neighbor Kate, the one he had asked out for coffee, the _insomniac aunt_ , oh, he is going to _kill_ Natasha. 

She knew exactly what she was doing the entire time. 

 

* * *

 

Natasha won’t stop hounding him about it. While she’s handing him Bucky’s file, “Sharon. She’s nice.” After Sokovia, “Have you called Sharon? She’s hot, she won’t wait around forever.” 

Rolling her eyes when he confronts her about it:

“You knew she was Peggy’s niece the entire time?”

Natasha shrugs as if the detail is unimportant. “Would that have made a difference?” He’s not sure. He wants to to believe that it wouldn’t have. He’s not that fucked up, and anyway, he wouldn’t do that to her. From their short interactions, the way she had slyly warned him about the intruder in his apartment, he knows that she shares Peggy’s fire, but he’s able to separate them. 

“Just give her a chance, Steve,” Natasha says, and she rarely uses his first name, so he knows it’s serious. “Don’t compare her to her family, or judge her because of her past. You did it for me.”

 

* * *

 

Tony’s the last person he would expect to know her. But she shows up at SHIELD’s training room one day and the guy drops his weights to get up and hug her. 

She laughs as he does, making a joke about how sweaty he is, and Tony just hugs her harder while her nose crinkles in fake disgust. 

“I guess I’m missing something here,” Steve says as they part, and Tony rolls his eyes while Sharon blushes slightly. 

“Tony and I grew up together,” she says, and Steve raises an eyebrow. 

“Howard and Peggy were close,” Tony says with a shrug, and goes back to his weights like that was a fact that everyone knew. Everyone except for Steve, apparently. 

 

* * *

 

It’s not until she flips him on his back one day in the training room, letting out a loud laugh as she straddles him, that he finally gets it. 

They never went for that coffee, but in that moment, he wants nothing more. She’s been present at some of the same SHIELD meetings as him, occasionally stopping by the training room, showing up at Avengers Tower to see Tony. 

They slowly become more comfortable around each other, going from smiling at each other in hallways to casual greetings, and then progressing to conversations in the training room. Steve asks her to be his sparring partner, and for once he’s met someone who’s his match in a battle, just as skilled as Natasha. 

She almost gets the better of him every time they fight, but this is the first that she’s snuck up on him like this. He looks up at her, a smile lighting up her face, his own eyes softening at the corners, and he completely understands why he can’t meet a single person that doesn’t have something to say about her. 

She’s influenced by Peggy, sure, but she’s her own person. She’s unique. Funny, sarcastic, energetic – always bouncing on her feet while they spar, cracking good-natured wise comments at his expense – kind, an incredible agent. A horrible actress, but she’s “working on it”, in her own words. 

He grabs her hips and flips them over, surprising her, which makes her laugh even more. Something passes through him as he offers her a hand to help her up, and he asks for her number. 

She raises an eyebrow but offers it up without comment. 

Natasha’s going to be ecstatic.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me what you think, and as always, feel free to send prompts my way on [tumblr](http://www.jessaminelovelace.tumblr.com/ask)!


	10. The Matchmaking Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13-infinity on tumblr asked: "We’re neighbors and your dog keeps running into my yard which is ok but seriously please control your canine bc I’m having a hard time keeping it together talking to you." Though a while ago there was some fanart about a headcanon that Sharon have a cat called Commando... You could adapt

Steve’s never been good with women, and that was even before he started going to the gym and bulking up. Bucky’s been helping him, and has always been supportive, but a brand new body doesn’t change the fact of who Steve is on the inside: hopelessly awkward and unbearably shy. 

Which is why it comes as an extra blow to his ego when he realizes that his cute blonde neighbor, Sharon, has a boyfriend. He’ll admit that he’s really only spoken to her a few times, but the “vibe” (as Bucky likes to call it) that he’d gotten off of her had been distinctly flirty. She’d been nice to him since she first moved in next door, even before the terrible disaster that was his first relationship.

He’s only ever had the one girlfriend, pre-workout body, and that had ended horribly. She dumped him for a bigger, stronger guy, and that was the last straw. He started going to the gym and waking up early for long runs, waving to Sharon as she left for work every morning, and she always smiled and waved back.

Steve had almost gotten the courage to ask her out once, but had chickened out at the last minute while they were talking and she smiled, and he’d realized that she was completely out of his league. 

That’s when the guy starts showing up at her place. He’s shorter than Steve and less bulky, but for some reason makes Steve feel like the least manly guy in existence. He drives an expensive car, always shows up to Sharon’s wearing suits, and is there at least twice a week, if not more often. Steve accepts the fact that he’s missed his chance. 

 

* * *

 

A meow comes from outside Steve’s door while he’s lacing up his shoes for his morning run, and he opens his door to find a tiny, orange, baby tabby cat sitting on his front porch. 

The next thing he hears is Sharon’s soft voice calling out, “Commando! Commando! Here, kitty!” and puts two and two together. He finishes up lacing his shoes and scoops up the small kitten, locking his door and making his way around the fence that separates his house from Sharon’s. 

“I think I found what you’re looking for,” he says in greeting, and the look of relief on her face is unbelievably cute. 

She lets out a loud sigh, exasperated, and makes her way over to Steve near her car, lifting the small cat out of his arms. “Thank you so much, I really didn’t have time for this this morning. I swear I only opened the door for one second, I have no idea how she got out.” 

“It was no problem, really,” Steve smiles politely, and starts to turn away from her when she places her hand on his arm. He tries not to flinch at the sudden contact. 

“I hate to ask,” she blurts, “but would you mind watching her today? All you have to do is refill her food twice, for lunch and dinner. I have to work late tonight and I can’t stand the thought of leaving her alone. There’s a spare key in the plant,” she points to her porch, giving Steve a warm smile. 

“Of course,” he says, not being able to say no to her and sort of hating himself for it. 

“It’s only for today,” she rambles on, walking towards her front door and setting the kitten down. “I usually never have to work late, but my boss–”

“It’s fine,” Steve says with a laugh, following her through the door. Her house has the same basic set-up as his: living room right near the front door to the left, stairs on the right, kitchen in the back. “Where’s the food?”

Sharon shows him the food bowls she has set up and everything that he needs to feed Commando. She gives him a hug in parting, surprising him even more, as they leave the house. 

“Thank you again, really. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t really need help. You’re a great guy, Steve,” she smiles, and opens the door to her car. “I shouldn’t be back later than 10.” His heart jumps at her words and doesn’t slow down until well after his run.

 

* * *

 

Turns out the first time wasn’t the last. After feeding her for a day, Commando takes a liking to Steve that neither he or Sharon expected. She starts showing up in his house at random hours of the day, purring and rubbing up against his legs. He has no idea how she keeps getting in, making sure to lock his windows and the door to his backyard, but she keeps bypassing them. 

It happens once when Bucky’s over and they’re watching a movie. Steve hears the distinct sounds of meowing coming from somewhere beyond the kitchen and lets out a sigh, pausing the movie and making his way towards his back door. Bucky follows, curious, and lets out a laugh when he sees the orange tabby pawing at the door. 

“I didn’t know you had a cat,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the table as Steve opens the door to let her in. 

“I don’t.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. 

“She’s Sharon’s. I’ve given up on trying to ignore her. She’ll just meow until I let her in, or find her own way.” 

“Sharon as in pretty, blonde Sharon that lives next door that you’re totally ass backwards for?” 

Steve can’t help the flush that spreads through him, hating how transparent he is with his emotions. He strokes the kitten’s hair. She’s gotten somewhat larger in the past few weeks, but she’s still on the smaller end of cat sizes. 

“That’s the one,” he mumbles in answer to Bucky’s question, waiting for the knock at the door. It should be any second now. 

And– there it is. Sharon always realizes that Commando’s gone fairly quickly, the routine of coming over to pick her up becoming a weekly, if not daily, one for her and Steve. Bucky plops back down on the couch as Steve goes to open the door. 

Sharon looks even better tonight than usual, as if that’s even possible, even though she’s just wearing a tank-top and pajama pants. Her hair’s up in a messy ponytail, different than the way that she wears it to work, and Steve lets him fantasize for a second what it would be like if they lived together, how often he’d be able to see her like this. 

“Hey,” she says, her smile lighting her face up like usual. “This is starting to become a bit predictable,” she laughs, scooping the kitten out of his arms again. “Not that I mind.”

Steve hears Bucky cough in the background, as if choking on a piece of popcorn, and wants to throw something at him. He debates the coat rack behind the door, but decides that it might be too violent at the moment. 

Sharon rubs her arms slightly, the weather starting to become cooler as winter is approaching. Steve wants to invite her in but can’t seem to find the courage. Unfortunately, Bucky does it for him. 

“Why don’t you come in and watch a movie with us?” Bucky pipes up from the couch, and Sharon’s eyes dart towards him. She looks back at Steve. 

“I don’t want to intrude–” she starts, but Bucky cuts her off. 

“Don’t worry about it. Steve’s boring anyway,” he quips, and Sharon laughs. She looks back at Steve. 

“Do you–”

“Yeah!” he says, a little too eagerly. “We’re watching Star Wars, if that’s your thing.” 

“Of course! I love Star Wars! And so does Commando, don’t you, girl?” she asks her cat, and it lets out a little meow in response. The smile that Sharon gives her kitten makes Steve’s breathing uneven. 

 

* * *

 

“Okay dude, what the fuck?” Bucky asks when Sharon leaves for the night. They’d all had a great time, making comments about the movie as it went along. Bucky had watched Steve suspiciously the entire time. Commando had fallen asleep between him and Sharon, and their hands had accidentally touched while going to stroke the tiny thing’s head. 

“She has a boyfriend,” Steve starts, and Bucky shakes his head. 

“I don’t know what you think you saw, but she was definitely hitting on you. She doesn’t have a boyfriend, not with the way she was looking at you.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Buck, he’s at her place all the time. I see them hug.” 

“Oh no, she hugged another man! God forbid. You need to ask her out, man. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“She’ll think I’m a freak for interpreting our friendship wrong?”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

* * *

 

“Okay,” Steve says to Commando the next time she turns up. She purrs at him until he lifts her off the ground. “I can ask her out, right? It’s not that hard. Just coffee.” The kitten tilts her head at him, and Steve lets out a sigh. He’s making this situation unbelievably hard for himself. 

Sharon’s familiar knock sounds at his door. Commando meows. 

“Hey,” he starts, swinging the door open to greet Sharon’s kind face. “Would you want to go out with me sometime? For coffee?”

Her eyes widen in surprise, taken aback by his sudden question. He knows that it was abrupt, but if he hadn’t gotten it out then he never would have. Her features slide into a grin, and she steps closer to him. Steve’s heart jumps in his chest. 

“You know, I’ve been waiting for weeks for you to say that,” she says, taking the kitten out of his arms and placing her on the ground. 

“Oh yeah?” Steve asks, hoping that she can’t see him starting to sweat. 

“Mhm,” she wraps her arms around his neck. She leans closer and he feels like he’s going to combust. Sharon kisses him first, but he doesn’t hesitate in reciprocating. She tastes like chocolate and her lips are soft and she’s the best thing he’s touched in his entire life, he’s sure of it. “What took you so long?” she breathes, still pressed up against him. 

“I, ah. I thought you had a boyfriend.” Steve presses his lips together, embarrassed. Sharon’s eyebrows knit together, and then her eyes widen. 

“Oh my god.” 

“What?” he asks with a strained laugh, hoping that she doesn’t have some memory loss issue and has just remembered that she does, in fact, have a boyfriend waiting for her at home. 

“Tony. That’s probably who you though was my boyfriend. Oh, god,” she lets out a laugh, burying her face in his neck and giggling some more. “He’s my cousin,” she tells Steve, hands wandering down to his chest. “Always wearing a suit? Scruffy face? That’s him?” she asks Steve to make sure, and he nods. “Yeah, that’s Tony. He just moved back in town. We haven’t seen each other since we were kids. But still… I thought I was being pretty obvious,” she says, and Steve shrugs slightly. 

“I’m pretty hopeless with women,” he says, and Sharon shifts slightly to close his door behind them. 

“Good for me, then,” she smiles, and kisses him again. 


	11. Buried Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the worst thing i've ever written tbh lmao but sharonrrogers on tumblr asked "listen, I need you to rip my heart out for me. something (I don't care what) tragic happens to Steve/Sharon" so i delivered. i'm not trying to hide anything, hence the title, because i don't want anyone to be triggered while reading this. so please read cautiously

 

They’re ambushed right outside of Eureka Springs. Sharon’s just starting to fall into a deep sleep when the car is thrown off the road, the SHIELD agent assigned to drive cursing, the wheels screeching as he tries to right their vehicle on the road. 

Arkansas, of all places. It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get in, take out Hydra agents, get out. Sharon thought they were in the clear. 

There’s a crunch when the car lands, and everything goes dark.

 

* * *

 

Sharon wakes up and it’s still dark. Her head hurts. She shifts, slightly woozy, and her back hits the door of the car. She blinks, confused, feeling around. It had still been morning while they were driving back. They can’t have been asleep that long. 

Her forehead’s bleeding, or maybe it’s her scalp. Her back is sore. 

Steve lets out a groan somewhere next to her, and her arms reach for his chest. He lets out a small cough, reaching out for her, and Sharon looks around again while scooting closer to him, struggling to figure out where they are. God, it’s so _dark_. 

She searches for her phone, trying to illuminate the space that they’re in, and lets out a gasp when she figures it out. Her chest feels like it’s caving in. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh no. 

“Sharon,” Steve rasps, his arms wrapping around her in the small space. She clutches his arms, digging her nails in, breath uneven and panicky. “Sharon,” he says again, more awake now. “What’s wrong?” 

She lets out a small wail against his chest, realizing too late that they should probably be conserving air. She tries to steady her breathing, but can’t stop hyperventilating. She hasn’t had a panic attack since high school, and this is the _worst_  possibly place to be having a relapse. “Steve,” she sobs, unable to get words out. 

“Shhh,” he murmurs, but that just makes her cry more. She claws at his shirt and he holds her until she finally quiets down. 

He tries to use his super soldier strength to dig them out, but Sharon understands quickly that that’s just going to let more dirt in and suffocate them faster than if they just sat in the fucking car. 

“We’re going to die,” she says quietly, numb. After everything. After Hydra, and Rumlow, and Sokovia, they’re going to die from being fucking buried alive. She feels sick to her stomach. 

“We’re not–” Steve starts to protest, but she places her hand over his mouth. She can feel, if not see, his chest heaving from the digging, and they need to save all the air they can get. 

“Just lay down with me, okay?” she asks, and they maneuver themselves across the backseat of the car. Sharon buries her head in Steve’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. His hands are wet as they clutch at her back, and her brain puts together that his fingernails are bleeding. Before she falls asleep, she thinks, _this is going to be the last time that I ever hear it_. 

 

* * *

 

It can’t have been more than an hour when Sharon wakes up again. “Steve,” she whispers, testing to see if he’s awake. One of his hands pulls at a strand of her hair lightly in response. “I love you,” she says, and his body goes rigid. 

“I know I’m not good at–” she inhales sharply, but forces herself to keep going. “At emotions. But I want you to know. I _need_ you to know, okay? I love you so much.” She chokes out the rest of her sentence, and Steve presses his lips to the top of her head in response. 

“I love you too,” he says softly, and she can feel the tears falling and dampening her hair. Her own roll down her cheeks. “More than you could ever know.”

 

* * *

 

“SHIELD can still find us,” he says after another bout of silence, ever the optimist. Sharon lets herself smile at the idea. 

“I’ll be really happy if they do,” she allows herself to say in response, but knowing in her heart that it won’t happen. “But if they don’t, we did good, right? We saved so many people. We–” she hiccups slightly, betraying the calm that she’s been trying to project for the past hour. “We did good,” she finishes, and feels him nod in response. 

“We did.”

 

* * *

 

“I remember the first day I saw you,” Steve starts again, after she straddles his lap. She needs to kiss him at least a hundred more times before she’s ready to die. It’s the only thing keeping her sane. “I thought you were the prettiest girl I had ever seen.”

“Oh yeah?” she whispers, fingers trailing along his chest. 

“Are you surprised?” he asks, and it sucks that she can’t fully see his face. Her phone had died hours ago, and he’s keeping his on battery save mode just in case SHIELD can somehow track the signal. Even though her eyes have adjusted to the darkness, it’s still not enough. She sucks in a breath, possibly one of the last she’ll ever take, and closes her eyes for a second. 

She’ll probably die first. He has more lung capacity, with the serum and everything. How long? How long after she dies will he have to stay down here with her lifeless body before the same happens to him? Hours probably. Maybe even a day. 

Sharon wants to scream, but her throat feels raw and her stomach is practically eating itself alive and she wants to cherish these last moments with him without being hysterical. 

“Hey. What are you thinking?”

“I don’t want to leave you,” she sobs, pressing her body even tighter against his. “I don’t–”

“You won’t have to. They’ll find us.”

“You’re the only–” hiccup “person that I’ve ever–” hiccup “ever ever wanted. I love you so much, Steve–” she dissolves into sobs. She hates this. She hates whoever did this so much. If they get out of this alive she’s going to hunt down whoever it is and murder them brutally. 

He presses his lips against her forehead, her cheeks, finally her mouth. “Love you too, so much, so fucking much.” He _never_ curses. 

She dissolves into tears again, burying her face in his shoulder. His arms stroke her back, over and over until she’s quiet again. 

 

* * *

 

Sharon can feel her breath shallowing out. It can’t be time already. She can’t go, she’s not ready, they never had the chance to move in together, to go on vacation like they’ve been meaning to, to get a fucking _cat_ – 

There’s a sound above ground. Sharon tries not to get too excited. It could be a raccoon, for all she knows. 

But Steve sits up too, suddenly on alert, and she looks over at him. “You heard that?” she asks, and he lets out a small “yes”. 

“You don’t think–”

“I don’t know.”

“Steve.” She fumbles for him in the dark. “Whatever happens, I love you, okay? If you make it and I don’t I– I want you to be happy.”

“Sharon, we’re _both_ going to make it.” His voice is harsh in a way that she’s only heard once before, when they had tracked down Rumlow, and it makes her pause. 

“Okay,” she breathes, “okay.”

“I love you,” she says one last time. 

“I love you too.” Sharon hears him take a deep breath. “Now we have to scream.”


	12. Could You Repeat That?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stevesharons on tumblr asked "'Could you repeat that?” + staron'"

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that? I don’t think I heard you the first time.” Steve is unbelievably smug and Sharon regrets everything that she has ever done to get to this moment in her life. 

“I hate you and I hope Clint’s dog bites your dick off,” Sharon responds, crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes at him. 

Steve lets out a low chuckle and Sharon’s stomach twists, hating he effect he has on her, even when they’re in their pajamas watching romcoms in her bedroom in the middle of the night. 

“Mmm, no, I don’t think that’s what it was,” he grins, stretching his arm out and underneath her thin tank-top, tickling her. 

Sharon lets out a squeal and Steve laughs, continuing his torture (Sharon is incredibly sensitive to tickling and she hates it more than anything, he _knows_ that, _so_ rude) while she unsuccessfully tries to fight him off. Stupid super soldier arms and stupid Steve Rogers and stupid life, Sharon thinks to herself as she wrestles her way on top of him. 

He lets up his teasing, settling his arms on her waist instead. 

“I love you, you jerk,” Sharon huffs out, breathless from their short fight. Steve stretches up and presses a kiss to her forehead, calming her down slightly. 

“That’s better.” 

Sharon lets out an affronted sound and he laughs again, fixing his response. “I love you too.” 

“I would hope so, or else I’d have to kick you out of my bed.” 

“And make me miss the last half hour of ‘You’ve Got Mail’? The horror.” 

“Shut up and watch the movie.” 

“Can’t do that while you’re on top of me, hon.” 

“You’re the worst.”

“I think you meant to say ‘best’. It’s an honest mistake. I forgive you.” Sharon rolls her eyes, rolling back over and on to the pile of pillows that she’s made for herself. Steve wraps an arm around her, and she sighs in contentment, settling into him again. Maybe sharing feelings isn’t so bad, after all. 


	13. Magic Word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13-infinity on tumblr asked "staron 'you forgot to say the magic word'"

Steve and Sharon have developed an incredibly useful, if not slightly cliche, way of fighting back to back that not only allows them to cover each other, but also lets them have conversations in the middle of a battle. Is it slightly impractical? Yes. Is it absolutely fun? Even more so. 

Sharon leans against Steve’s (extremely muscular) back to give herself some leverage in order to kick a Hydra agent away from her, letting out a grunt in the process. 

“What about a movie?” Steve asks, shifting slightly to the left to knock out another goon; Sharon moves with him. “When’s the last time we’ve been to the movies?” 

“Was it… shit,” Sharon answers him, docking out of the way of a punch, “I can’t even remember. Wouldn’t you rather stay home, though? I have plenty of DVD’s we haven’t gotten around to watching yet.”

She can almost see Steve rolling his eyes. Sharon loves staying at home, mostly because she’s lazy, but also because she doesn’t like risking going out in public with him. Not only because of the chance of him being recognized, but also because he’s so attractive that she has to glare at almost everyone that comes their way in order to assert her dominance. She gets jealous, okay?

“Come on,” Steve says, using what Sharon likes to call his “convincing voice” on her. “I’ll buy you food,” he adds when she stays silent. 

“You forgot to say the magic word,” Sharon sing-songs, ignoring Natasha’s groan of annoyance over comms. 

“Burgers,” Steve grins, not that Sharon can see it, but she knows he’s grinning, in that super-cute, smug way of his. 

“It’s a deal,” Sharon answers him, and Clint laughs in her ear. 

“Can you two focus now, please?” Sam pleads, and Steve and Sharon both laugh. 


	14. Snowball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> misskrystalgoderitch on tumblr asked: "Steve/Sharon: 'Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!'"

It’s their first winter together. Not their first _winter_ together, but their first winter _together_. There was that awful year that Natasha dragged them to Russia, but they don’t really count that as them being together. (Sharon had loved sharing a sleeping bag with him, though. That was an experience that she’d happily repeat.)

This year, though, it counts. This year, winter with Steve is waking up in bed together, a warm fireplace, Steve teasing Sharon about her tacky, fuzzy Christmas socks. And _snow_. God, Sharon loves snow.

Next to teasing Steve, it’s her favorite activity. Combining the two is even better.

Sharon knows that sneaking up on him is useless, but that doesn’t stop her from trying. Multiple times. She’d missed multiple throws earlier in the week, but she’s determined.

He’s cooking dinner, now, back turned towards her, but his shoulders are tense. No doubt he heard her try to close the door as quietly as possible and still fail.

She tiptoes anyway. She hears the chopping stop, squeezes the ball of snow in her hand with a satisfying crunch. It’s hot in the house, it won’t last long. Sharon aims.

“Don’t you dare throw that snowbal– goddammit!” Sharon bursts out in giggles, covering her mouth with her hands as Steve turns around. She’d gotten him right in between his shoulder blades, dampening the grey t-shirt that he was wearing.

He’s glaring, but Sharon knows that it’s a playful glare and that just makes her laugh harder; a stomach-clenching, doubled over kind of laugh that she hasn’t done in a long time.

Steve’s face softens. He lets out a soft chuckle, stalking towards her. “You’re going to pay for that,” he murmurs, and Sharon feels it deep in the pit of her stomach.

“You’re going to have to catch me, first,” she quips, running over to hide behind the couch. She squeals when he runs after her.


	15. Pregnant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon on tumblr asked: "Hi, could you write some steve x sharon with the 'I think you might be pregnant.' line? :)"

It’s somewhere between Sharon asking Steve for pickles and a jar of peanut butter with a spoon, and her bursting into tears after watching Animal Planet (“I can’t believe Coco would just leave her clan like that!” she’d bawled into her blanket) that Steve finally understands that something’s not quite right.

  
Sure, Sharon can be emotional, but never like this. There’s a difference between being open and being hysterical, and they’ve been together long enough for Steve to get it.

  
He turns to Google first. (Nat would never let him live down asking for advice, and Tony’s still uncomfortable with the idea of Sharon being old enough to have sex. It’s a weird, brotherly-figure relationship that Steve still can’t quite wrap his head around. Tony Stark as someone’s older brother. _Ha_.)

  
The answer isn’t that hard to find, but it is slightly shocking. Not unwelcome, of course, but just a surprise.

  
He finds the right time to talk to Sharon about it, before bed, but not too late that she’s sleepy-dopey and cuddling up to him like a kitten. Not that he doesn’t love that, because he does, but it’s probably not the best state of mind for her to be in for this particular conversation.

  
“Sharon,” he murmurs. They’re on the couch watching TV (not Animal Planet; he’s had enough Meerkat Manor drama to last him a lifetime), and Steve’s rubbing Sharon’s feet. She lets out a contented sigh.

  
“Hmm?” she asks him, turning her head away from the program.

  
“I think… I think you might be pregnant.”  
It’s quiet. Steve stills his hands, afraid of startling her. Sharon closes her eyes for a second; thinks.

  
“Oh my god.”

  
“I didn’t–”

  
“Oh my god,” Sharon repeats. Steve’s not sure what to make of it. “Oh my god!” Sharon squeals, finally, leaping over the couch and into his lap. She attacks his face before he has a chance to speak. He can feel the smile on her mouth.

  
“You’re not upset?” he asks breathlessly once he can manage to pull away, and Sharon’s eyebrows crease together in the most adorable way.

  
“Upset?” she asks, suddenly more timid than she’d been a second ago. “Are–are you upset?” She settles in his lap, quiet again.

  
“No. _No_ , Sharon, I’m not. It’s just, sort of a surprise? A _good_ surprise,” he emphasizes, and her features soften.

  
“I should’ve realized earlier,” Sharon says with a laugh. “Look at you, soldier,” she teases him. “You knocked me up.” Steve laughs, then, releasing tension he didn’t know he had. He knew that Sharon didn’t particularly want children, but she seemed happy enough. And that’s all he wants, really. For her to be happy.

  
“So you want–you want to keep it?” he asks her carefully, and Sharon presses herself tighter against him.

  
“Yes. Absolutely yes. Of course I do. I love you.”

  
“I love you too.” She leans in to kiss him again. “Now take me to bed,” she commands, pulling another laugh from him.

  
“Yes ma'am.” 


	16. Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon on tumblr asked: "Steve x Sharon + 'Wait a minute. Are you jealous?'"

Steve’s glaring. Sharon can sense his eyes, boring into her back as she laughs at another one of Tony’s corny jokes. She hasn’t seen Tony in what feels like ages. In reality, it has been a few years, but nowhere near as long as her brain tells her it’s been. Sure, they talk on the phone every once in a while, but this is the guy that she thought of as her _brother_. Sharon loved Tony like he was, anyway, even if they weren’t blood related.

  
After Peggy, well. Tony’s basically the only family she has left. Which is why it’s so unbelievably funny and adorable the way that Steve is throwing mental daggers at Tony behind her back. She doesn’t even need to see it, she just knows.

  
“Do you remember Angie’s special hot chocolate?” Tony asks, throwing a lazy punch that Sharon easily dodges. They’re supposed to be practicing, but Sharon and Tony can never really be serious around each other for too long.

  
She lets out a small laugh, easily picturing the scene: Aunt Angie, Aunt Peggy, Uncle Gabe, Tony. All settled around around a fire in one of Howard’s many homes, giggling and telling stories. She misses it.

  
“Of course I do. Never could figure out what was so ‘special’ about it, though. Besides it tasting great.”

  
Tony raises an eyebrow, then lets out a quick bark of laughter. “That’s right, I forgot. You were so young back then. Teeny tiny little Sharon.” Sharon rolls her eyes, trying to sneakily maneuver Tony into a position where she can dropkick him onto his back. “The special ingredient was rum,” he grins, and Sharon lets out an astonished laugh.

  
“No.”

  
“Oh, yeah. Angie used to say that no Christmas was complete without getting ‘completely trashed’. It was amazing.”

  
“I can’t believe you guys were drunk all those times!”

  
“Not drunk,” Tony insists, “just pleasantly tipsy. We had a child to take care of, after all.”

  
Steve clears his throat behind them, obviously in annoyance, forcing Sharon to turn around. He’s angrily going at a punching bag, a surefire way for Sharon to guess at just how peeved he is. The other way being the way that his adorable eyebrows are scrunched together.

  
She gives Tony a look, like, _give me a minute_ , and makes her way over to Steve. He’s taller than she is when she’s only wearing sneakers, so she has to press herself up on her toes slightly to reach his face. Sharon runs her fingers over the creases in his brow, and Steve sighs when she wraps her arms around his neck.

  
“What's wrong?” she asks him, knowing the answer but wanting him to voice it anyway. She likes dragging things out of him – it’s their own special form of bonding. Especially because he can be so closed off at times.

  
“Not a thing,” he answers her, faking a smile. His lips press into a thin line, not convincing Sharon in the slightest. She widens her eyes slightly at him, like, _spill_. He sighs again. “It’s not a big deal. You’ve known Tony longer than you’ve known me, I shouldn’t–”

  
Sharon grins up at him, curling her fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. “Wait a minute,” she teases, “are you _jealous_?”

  
Steve closes his eyes, patience waning. Sharon’s smile widens. She leans up to press her lips against his ear, loving the way she can feel his body shiver in response. “Don’t be. I’ll show you tonight just how little you have to worry, Captain.” His eyes flash open, dark and inviting, and Sharon has to remind herself that they’re in a public area, with none other than Tony Stark.

  
“You two are disgusting!” he calls out from over on the sparring mat. Speak of the devil. The side of Steve’s mouth quirks, his irritated version of a smile. Sharon bounces away from him, knowing full well that he’s getting a nice view of her ass. Tony pretends to gag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my [tumblr askbox](http://jessaminelovelace.tumblr.com/ask) is always open! come request steve/sharon or any other pairing if you know that i ship it!


	17. Looks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon on tumblr asked, "staron + 'I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.'" funnily enough, i've written something for gale/madge with this prompt before

Sharon’s no good with feelings. If there’s one thing the Academy taught her, it was that emotions got you killed. It was important to have them, obviously, but compartmentalizing was key. Have your feelings, just have them at the right time and in the right place. 

This was all well and good, of course, but Sharon had never been good with sharing her emotions in the first place. So now, here she is, at Aunt Peggy’s funeral, debating whether or not she should let herself cry in public or run to the nearest bathroom. 

It didn’t help that Steve Rogers kept glancing over at her periodically with the worst, most adorably concerned expression on his face every time he thought she wasn’t looking. And those looks made Aunt Angie give Sharon even _more_ looks, and it’s really just too many looks for one girl to handle while she’s trying to survive a horrible moment in her life without causing a scene.  

Besides, the whole “ex-neighbor, possibly new friend” situation is something Sharon just isn’t ready to cough up an explanation for yet. _Bathroom_ , she decides quickly, ducking Angie’s curious gaze and Steve’s worried one. 

 

* * *

 

She doesn’t expect him to follow her. Sharon couldn’t find the bathroom in the stupid reception area so she just ducked into the nearest empty room she could find, leaning against the desk that she found there and letting out a deep breath. Of course, seconds later, none other than Steve Rogers pushes the door open. 

Sharon wipes frantically at the tears starting to form in her eyes, hoping that he hadn’t seen too much of her upcoming meltdown. Her spine straightens when he fully enters the room, closing the door behind him. It’s her body’s natural response to him these days; unsure of what she feels, but feeling slightly on edge whenever she sees him. (Sharon’s not sure if it’s a good or bad thing, yet. She doesn’t really want to know.) 

“Hey,” Steve starts, cautiously, and Sharon rolls her eyes in response. She hops up on the desk and he leans back against the door, raising an eyebrow at her. 

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me when you think I won’t notice,” she answers him, “so you can skip the formalities.” 

There’s something satisfying in the way that his mouth slightly gapes open, the hot red flash that starts at the base of his neck (maybe lower?) and creeps towards his face. He opens and closes his mouth, searching for something to say. “I don’t– I, ah–” 

Sharon tilts her head at him in amusement, temporarily forgetting the situation at hand. He continues to sputter, finally forcing a full sentence out. 

“I’m just worried about you, is all.” 

“Oh, don’t worry, Captain. I’ve been to an unlimited number of these,” Sharon mutters, trying to pass off something that’s so unbelievably _not_ funny as a joke. Steve’s eyebrows pinch together. 

“Even more reason for the concern, then,” he tells her. Sharon lets out a loud sigh, hating the way that her shoulders shake with it, with all of the memories of Peggy and Howard and even Angie, somewhere down the hall. She furiously blinks back new tears. 

What is it about Steve Rogers that makes her want to blurt out everything that she’s feeling, all of her secrets, all at once? _His eyes, probably_ , Sharon’s brain tells her, but she ignores it, hopping off of the desk and smoothing out her dress. 

“I’ll be fine, okay?” She wants to believe it’s true, but how many times is she going to lose someone? Tony’s parents, her own, Tripp, and now Aunt Peggy. She tries to leave the room, but Steve’s still blocking the door. Goosebumps rise along Sharon’s arms when he places a gentle hand on her elbow. 

“You don’t have to be. It’s okay to… to not be okay.” 

“Yeah, I’ll try to remember that one,” she whispers, tugging her arm out of his grasp and reaching for the doorknob. His gaze burns the back of her neck as she walks away from him, and back into reality.


	18. Single Teachers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stevesharons on tumblr asked "staron + elementary teacher au 'I’m practically falling asleep on my feet and you show up to my classroom offering coffee LET ME LOVE YOU' or 'We’re both single co-teachers in the same classroom and I think we really work well together but there are times when I catch you sigh wistfully and—d-did I just hear you say how great we’re going to be if we raise our own kids together?!'" i chose the first one

“Of course, Mrs. Jones, I completely understand the situation, but all I’m suggesting is–”

“All _I’m_ suggesting is that if this isn’t fixed soon, you’re going to be hearing from more than just me, I can guarantee that.” Sharon watches Thomas’s mother’s coiffed, blonde bob march out the door and plops down in her seat, letting out a long groan and running her hands over her face. 

Sharon had agreed to the woman’s request for an unbelievably early meeting a few days earlier, obviously overestimating her own ability to be a functioning human being. She had woken up this morning twenty minutes later than usual after a night of grading papers, feeling like a zombie, and had barely made it to the high school on time to see said woman, _just_ to have Mrs. Jones yell in Sharon’s face. All in all, it was a completely horrible morning. 

There’s a soft knock on her door that causes Sharon to look up from her desk, and her heart drops into her stomach when she sees who it is. Of course, of _course_ Steve chose this morning of all mornings to look so incredibly gorgeous, _god_. The one day that Sharon hadn’t bothered to put on makeup and had run out of the house tugging on the only outfit that she could find, a blue and black dress that’s a size too small and makes her look like a walking bruise. Just peachy. 

Steve looks amused, holding two cups of something Sharon is praying is coffee in his hands as he makes his way towards her desk. He sets one down in front of her, and Sharon practically attacks it. 

She gulps down almost half of it before being able to speak. “Oh, thank god,” she gasps, causing Steve to laugh–arguably the best sound that she’s heard all morning. “You’re a lifesaver,” she praises him, going in for more. 

“That didn’t sound good,” he says, gesturing back towards the door. Sharon rolls her eyes. It’s not the first time she’s dealt with an angry parent, and she’s sure it won’t be the last. 

“You know, same old, same old. Cranky religious mom who doesn’t approve of the books that I’ve put on the syllabus for this semester, what else is new?” Sharon cracks a smile for the first time all morning. Steve takes it as an opportunity and leans over her desk, causing Sharon to practically spill the coffee all over herself. 

She’s surprised at how cool she manages to play it. “How ‘bout we go out tonight, and I make you forget all about Mrs. Jones?” he asks her, and Sharon bites her lip. She _wants_ to. She really, really wants to. She and Steve have been dancing around each other for months now, but Sharon’s always had a strict policy of not dating co-workers. 

The look on his face now, though, very much makes her reconsider. “Tempting,” she grins, just slightly teasing him. They’re close enough for her to feel his breath on her face, and it’s intoxicating. “What else can you make me forget?” she asks him, proud of herself for being able to string together such a clever response when she’s sure the coffee hasn’t kicked in yet. 

Steve raises an eyebrow at her, leaning closer, and almost closes the gap between them when Sharon hears the unmistakable sound of heels clicking down the hallway. She jumps away from Steve, tugging at the cardigan she had thrown on to cover the fact that this dress didn’t quite fit her boobs in. Her door is still open, and the rest of the staff are coming in at the now normal arrival time. She quickly runs over to close it, pulling down the blind, and turns around to face Steve again. 

“Is that a yes?” he asks, practically stalking towards her. Sharon’s heart races. 

“Yes,” she breathes. “But you have to go. You’re in my room too much, it’s starting to get suspicious.” 

“In a sec,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss her. Suffice to say, Sharon completely forgets about everything that’s happening outside that door for the next few minutes. “Think of that as a preview of tonight,” he says in departure, pressing a kiss on her nose before he leaves. 

Sharon stays glued to the doorway until the first bell rings. 


	19. Bath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> misskrystalgoderitch on tumblr asked "Taking a bath together with Steve x Sharon"

Sharon gasps. Steve grunts. Some water splashes over the side of the tub. 

“You know, this is not _nearly_ as romantic as it’s made out to be,” Steve quips once they’re settled into a comfortable position. Sharon lets out a quiet laugh, pressing her back up against his chest as he wraps his arms around her. 

“Yeah, well. I _am_ injured,” she tells him, and without even looking at him, she can picture the way that his eyebrows scrunch together, his forehead crinkling. She can’t hold back her smile. 

“Something that I will never get used to,” he murmurs into her ear. Sharon rolls her eyes to herself. So chivalrous, this one. She settles further into him, sinking lower into the water. Which is now, by the time that they’ve both gotten undressed and fixed up their wounds (they would’ve been bathing in a pool of blood if they hadn’t stitched each other up beforehand), lukewarm and on its way to being cold. 

Even so, it feels nice against her skin, soothing against the new bruises and sore cuts. “I can take care of myself, Steve,” she tells him. Not that he doesn’t know. 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t hate seeing you hurt.” 

“Back at ya,” Sharon sighs, the day’s events leaving her suddenly exhausted and weary. She closes her eyes, _just for a second_ , she promises herself. 

“Sharon,” Steve whispers after a few minutes of silence. A soft snore answers him, and he lets out a quick chuckle, unplugging the drain beneath them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short one, but i can't have great ideas all the time lmao


	20. Argument

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon asked "Staron where Sharon argues that starting a family will be hard with their lives right now but Steve feels that it can work out"

“Oh my god, Steve!” Sharon throws her hands up in frustration. “I don’t want to talk about this right now!” The dinner that Steve has cooked for them sits cold and abandoned in the table in front of her. Sharon hates the way that he’s just winced, the hurt expression on his face. She wants to take it back, but she can’t. It’s out there. 

His face hardens into something that she’s never seen before. This is their first, real, _huge_ fight, and Sharon wants nothing more than to go back twenty minutes ago when they were recounting something dumb that Tony had said at their last meeting. “Yeah, clearly,” Steve sneers, and Sharon narrows her eyes at him. 

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” she snaps, and Steve crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair. 

“I _mean_ that whenever the topic of children even peripherally comes up in conversation, you practically take off running! Why won’t you even _consider_ it?”

Sharon didn’t know that he felt so strongly about this. Unfortunately, she feels even more strongly about her own opinion. She unsuccessfully tries to keep her mouth shut, but it traitorously rebels against her. 

“Okay, _fine_. I’m _considering_ it.” The sarcastic, biting tone is one that she’s never used on Steve before. “I’m _considering_ what will happen when one of us die and our child has to grow up without their parent, or _parents_ ,” she spits. Sharon knows all too well what that is like. “I’m _considering_ the fact that I’ll probably be the worst mother on the face of the earth. And I’m _considering_ how terrifying it’ll be going on missions knowing that someone is depending on me to come home. Are you happy?” 

Steve’s face has softened in the course of her tirade. He abandons his chair to move towards her side of the table, leaning down in front of her. Sharon lets out a harsh breath, turning to face him. Steve takes his hands in hers. 

“Sharon… I didn’t know…” he shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

Sharon shakes her’s even more furiously. “No, _I’m_ sorry. I just don’t think that… now is the time. It’s so… unsafe.” Hydra is still hunting them, things are becoming even more shaky between the Avengers, and Sharon herself no longer knows if she’s guaranteed a job. Who could bring a child into a world like this? 

Steve nods in acceptance. “But not… _never_ , right?” he asks her, cautiously. Sharon smiles softly at him. She can picture miniature Steves running around her feet, boys with his eyes and her hair, maybe even a small girl that looks like Peggy. Her heart clenches. Before Steve, children weren’t even an option. 

“Not never. Just, not now.” 

“I can live with that,” he concedes. “But just speaking objectively, you’d make a great mother,” he tells her.

Sharon lets out a loud snort. 

“I’m serious!” he protests with a laugh. He’s still kneeling in front of her. “You’re kind, and patient, and _smart_ ,” he starts to explain. “You’re great with Clint’s kids.” 

“That’s because I know I can give them back when I get sick of them,” she tries to explain, but Steve shakes his head again. 

“Admit it, you like them,” he says with a grin, getting up now. Sharon wraps her arms around his waist as Steve leans down slightly to hug her. 

“They’re not so bad,” she mumbles against his stomach, and when he laughs, Sharon can feel it all over. 

“Ours will be even better.” 


	21. Iron Man Suit Injury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon asked "Staron and Sharon getting injured and having to go to the hospital and Steve visits her". since i already did something similar i tried to make this one more light hearted

“This is quite possibly the dumbest thing you’ve ever done,” Steve tells her as the paramedics are prepping her for the ambulance. Sharon cracks a grin, trying to lighten the situation with a laugh, but ends up just wincing in pain when it hits one of her sore spots. 

Steve’s hand tightens on hers momentarily, obviously concerned, and his face twists in a way that betrays him being torn between laughing at or scolding her. 

“In my defense,” Sharon slurs slightly, “Tony started it.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Sharon!” Tony starts, drink wobbling slightly in his hand, “I bet you can’t do Nat’s thigh chokehold,” he baits her. 

Sharon raises an eyebrow at him from her position on Steve’s lap, downing the rest of her whiskey. “Oh,” she glares at Tony, “wanna bet?” She jumps up off of Steve and proves her point quickly, at which point Tony, huffing on the floor, concedes defeat. 

“Okay, okay,” he says. “You can do anything, I get it,” he mutters, slapping away Sharon’s hand when she tries to help him up. Her lips quirk up in amusement. “At least I still have my suits,” he says. Sharon narrows her eyes at him. “I’m the only one who can work those.”

Sharon catches his obvious blunder because clearly, he’s not the only one that can work the suits. Rhodey and Pepper have both done it, too. It can’t be _that_ hard. 

She is so, so wrong.

 

* * *

 

“So I get a little competitive when I’m drunk,” she concedes after the doctors stitch her up. “Big deal.”

Steve laughs, shaking his head at her, and Sharon tries to hide her blush of shame. “Tony’s not mad at you, by the way,” Steve tells her, “for crashing his suit, that is.”

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in, why don’t you?” 

Steve snorts. “Only you,” he murmurs, leaning over in his chair by Sharon’s bedside to kiss her forehead. 

“You love it,” she declares, and Steve closes his eyes, shoulders shaking with laughter. 

“You’ve got that right.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so bad at titling these lmfaoooo


	22. The Breakup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i combined two anon asks: 1 "Staron+ they're broken up but all their friends around them see the tension and know they aren't over each other" and 2 "Staron + arguing in front of their friends"

“…and Steve will be there,” Natasha finishes, flashing a suspiciously deliberate glance in Sharon’s direction. Sharon, who had previously been scrolling through her phone’s camera roll trying to force herself to delete some old pictures (there’s one of her, Sam, and Steve at her favorite burger place the first time she’d dragged them there), freezes when she hears Steve’s name. 

Sharon would throttle Natasha if she could, but she’s not in the mood and she knows exactly what Natasha is trying to do. Which is why she’s surprised that Nat has even mentioned Steve at all, because if she’d had any sense she’d know that Sharon’s trying to avoid Steve at all costs. 

Why would she want to go to a party when she knows that Steve will be there? Is Nat really _that_ dense? She can’t be. There has to be an angle. 

“Why would Steve being there make me want to go?” Sharon finally asks, not even bothering to conceal what she’s trying to get out of her friend. 

“So that you two can finally make out and put all of us out of our misery,” Natasha fires back, raising an eyebrow in amusement when Sharon’s eyes all but explode out of her face. 

“Um, no,” Sharon tries to argue for herself, but Natasha waves a flippant hand in her direction. 

“Oh, please. You two are so clearly still in love that it’s sickening. Remind me why you two broke up again?” 

Sharon lets out a huff of annoyance, tossing her phone on the couch cushion next to her. She really, _really_ doesn’t want to have this conversation right now. It had been bad enough actually living through it. 

It was her idea, surprisingly. After everything, after the arguments and the missions and all of the stupid _feelings_ , feelings that she’d never _ever_ had before, Sharon had been the one to end it. She loved Steve. She probably always would. But they just wanted different things out of life. Steve wanted a _family_. He wanted a house full of kids and waking up early for work and moving in together and the whole white picket fence package. Sharon, well. 

Sharon had trouble leaving her toothbrush at his place, and she cringed whenever Clint’s baby ate a meal, all spittle and food flying everywhere. Ugh. Sharon didn’t know how to do commitment. She knew how to fuck and how to ruin things and how to deny every feeling that she’s ever had for the sake of her work. 

It had killed her to do it, but she felt like there was no other option. She was messy, and Steve just.. wasn’t. He was amazing and she was a train wreck and she didn’t know if she could make him happy when they seemed so much like opposites. 

She lets out a sigh, now, running her hands over her face. She’s so _tired_. Nat looks concerned and opens her mouth, probably to tell Sharon never mind, but Sharon answers her anyway. 

“It just wasn’t going to work out,” Sharon says, and that’s that. Nat gives her one more worried look before dropping it. “I’ll go,” Sharon decides after a few minutes of silence and watching Chopped. Nat’s eyebrows rise up on her forehead. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s not a big deal. I can go to a party and not have it be weird.”

“…Right.”

 

* * *

 

Leave it to Steve to look irresistible while not trying at all. Sharon truly and honestly cannot believe her luck. She had deliberately done her hair and worn the dress that he liked, because she was petty and slightly upset and she deserved to deal with this breakup however she wanted, okay? 

But of course she gets here and he’s not even trying and he looks even better than she remembers. Sharon feels like a complete idiot. He doesn’t even glance in her direction, but she must be staring at him for a good five minutes when she walks into Sam’s place until Natasha clears her throat. Sharon actually jumps in surprise, flushing when she understands what she’s been doing. 

_God_. He’s not even dressed up in anything fancy, but it’s been weeks and Sharon misses him so much that it’s a physical ache. His eyes catch hers when she and Nat finally make it inside, and Sharon hastily looks away, begging Sam to bring her any alcoholic beverage that he has on hand. 

“Are you okay?” he asks her when he brings her a beer, and Sharon chugs practically half of it before she answers. 

“Yeah, yeah. Totally.” She gives Sam a fake grin to top it off, like that’ll convince him. He just gives her the same look that Natasha had given her earlier. 

 

* * *

 

Somehow Sharon winds up on the couch in Sam’s living room with Wanda Maximoff. At least Wanda’s not looking at her in that horrible, I-know-you’re-going-through-a-breakup look, even if they are sitting in an awkward silence. 

“Steve let me flip him in practice the other day,” Wanda says, and Sharon coughs, not knowing how to respond. 

“That’s… nice.” 

“He was distracted, I think. He misses you.” Sharon almost chokes on her drink. 

“He _what_?” 

Yup, there’s the look. Even someone with magical powers is not above observing the shit show that is now Sharon’s life. 

“He’s usually very good at fighting me back,” Wanda explains. “So I knew he was… off his game.” She tries out the phrase, smiling comfortingly at Sharon when she does so. Sharon mostly just wants to go hide in the darkest corner that she can find. 

“I don’t… he was probably just worried about something else.” 

“If you say so.”

 

* * *

 

Sharon hides in Sam’s bathroom for a while. It’s a nice bathroom. Only one toothbrush. 

And then her brain tells her that her friends probably all think that she must be taking an extra long shit, so she leaves the bathroom door open (for proof of no smell, of course) and wanders back into the kitchen. 

She opens the fridge, searching for another beer, when she hears footsteps behind her. She turns slightly to see who it is and almost drops the bottle when she sees Steve’s beautiful, black dress shirt covered torso in the entryway. Sharon’s so flustered that she smacks her head on the inside of the fridge, letting out a yelp as she does it. 

Embarrassed, Sharon shuts the door and turns to face him. He’s trying to hold back a smile, she can tell, because his lips are pursed in that way of his that she loves. _Shit_. She needs to stop thinking of him like that. He’s not hers to love anymore. 

Sharon rubs the back of her head, just staring at him. She doesn’t know what to say. 

“Um, hey,” she tries, lamely. “How.. how are you?” The bottle in her hand sweats, droplets of water sliding down her hand, and she places it on the counter. Any ghost of a smile vanishes from his face. 

“Hey,” he says flatly in response. “That’s really all you’re going to say to me?” Sharon’s heart plummets into her stomach. 

“I mean, I don’t know. What do you want me to say?”

Steve looks angry, and hurt, and Sharon’s heart is beating so fast that she wonders if he can hear it. She can’t seem to hear anything else. 

“I don’t know, Sharon,” he snaps, shaking his head. Her hands are trembling. Coming to this party was _such_ a horrible idea. He takes a deep breath, shutting his eyes in frustration. Sharon wants nothing more than to comfort him, to go over to the other side of the counter and hug him or kiss him or _something_ , anything. 

But she doesn’t have that right anymore. 

“Maybe ‘I’m sorry’?” he finally says when he opens his eyes, and Sharon lets out a puff of air through her nose in frustration. 

“Sorry for what, Steve? I did you a favor!”

“By breaking my heart?”

Sharon lets out a sharp, sarcastic laugh. “Oh, please. You and I both know that I was the one more emotionally invested in our relationship, anyway. You could do so much better than me.” 

Steve’s eyes flash with anger. He stalks closer to her. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he hisses. Sharon snorts. 

“What were you going to do when you finally realized you wanted nothing to do with me?” she asks him, pushing on his chest. “Huh? You’re too nice to break up with anyone, so I just did it. I cut the cord, or whatever. You would’ve wanted to eventually, anyway.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” he murmurs, suddenly leaning in close and snatching her around the waist. Sharon gasps into his mouth, struggling against him for a good two seconds before she finally gives in. 

It’s crazy how much she had missed this; how much she had thought about it in the past weeks. His soft mouth and the bit of stubble that’s scratching against her face in the most pleasant way; the way his hands clutch at her dress in the back; the unabashed way that he’s just going for it. 

She wraps her arms around his neck, desperate to get as close to him as possible. And then the reality of the situation trickles in. All of their friends are right there. They’ve probably just heard this entire conversation. 

“Steve,” Sharon whimpers, pulling back slightly. His eyes are still closed. “Steve,” she murmurs again, pressing her hands against his face. His eyes flutter open. “What are we– what is– what was that?” she finally settles on. 

“I’m still in love with you,” he says. “I can’t believe that you thought I’d ever want to leave you.” 

“I don’t– I don’t want kids, Steve. I can’t– I’m not good at this.” 

“You don’t have to be,” he insists. “We can take it slow. When have I ever pressured you into anything?” 

Sharon rolls her eyes. If anyone was in a position to be pressuring in their relationship, it was her. He _was_  still a virgin when they first met. “I just don’t want you to feel like you’re missing out on anything,” she tells him. 

“I’m not.” Sharon’s unconvinced. “I’m _not_ ,” he insists. “You’re enough for me, okay? You’re all that I want.” Sharon practically melts in his arms. 

“Are you two done in there?” a voice that is without a doubt Natasha’s yells out, and Sharon buries her face in Steve’s chest in embarrassment. Nat is never going to let her live this down. Steve’s chest rumbles with laughter against her, and she looks up to smile at him. 

“It’s you and me, yeah?” he asks, and Sharon nods. 

“You and me.” 


	23. House Hunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon asked "Staron + looking for a house together"

Somewhere between Tony loaning his private jet to Steve for the millionth time and having to say goodbye to him after a night frantic sex and not enough time for much else, Steve and Sharon decide that they finally need to get a place together.

  
Staying at Avengers Tower is a bit impractical, considering that the last time Sharon had flown in and stayed the night Nat had walked in on them in the morning. Needless to say, Nat didn’t let that go for weeks. She’d probably have taken blackmail pictures if she could.

  
Staying in Sharon’s tiny apartment is even worse. They’re both constantly tripping over each other in there, in her kitchen and her twin bed that’s clearly not meant for two. And especially in her bathroom. They tried shower sex, _once_. It had ended with Steve on his ass halfway in the tub and halfway on the floor of her bathroom, and Sharon sporting a decent sized bruise on her thigh for a good week afterwards. Not that it wasn’t funny. It just kind of hurt.

  
Unfortunately, neither Steve nor Sharon really know how to go house hunting. Steve because, well. He hasn’t really been around in this century long enough to figure out how to work the market, and Sharon because SHIELD had provided her with her one and only own apartment after she’d graduated from the Academy. Subsequently, they had given Steve the apartment next to hers.

  
Tony had offered to buy them a place, of course, but both Steve and Sharon were uncomfortable accepting things that they hadn’t worked for. The SHIELD thing was a bit different, considering Sharon needed the place for missions, and Steve had just gotten unfrozen, but now they really wanted to find somewhere they could live together.

  
They needed a home.

 

* * *

 

Tony, unsatisfied with them not taking up on his offer, gives them the next best thing instead: his real-estate agent. Sherri is a nice woman in her late twenties, bubbly and red-headed, and amazingly enthusiastic about helping them find a place.

  
It could just be because Steve’s, you know, Captain America, but the girl doesn’t even mention it when they first meet. She’s just excited to be doing her job.

  
After having to deal with a bunch of weary, tired Avengers, it’s sort of refreshing.

  
“This place is _amazing_ ,” Sherri tells them now, parading them through an apartment on the Upper East Side. The place is gorgeous, of course, but Sharon’s not really sure that it’s within her and Steve’s budget. She throws him a worried look as Sherri explains it’s features. “It has three bathrooms, four bedrooms–”

  
Steve cuts her off in the politest way possible. “Sherri, I’m not sure what exactly Tony’s told you about our budget, but I don’t think that Sharon and I can really afford something like this.” He gestures around them.

  
“Oh!” Sherri gasps, obviously hearing this for the first time. Sharon’s going to absolutely ruin Tony when they get back to the Tower. “Mr. Stark said not to worry about the price, so I just assumed–”

  
“It’s not your fault,” Sharon tells her. “Tony insists on helping us pay for it, but we’re sort of stubborn about this type of thing.” Steve flashes Sharon a smile that warms her entire body. “So maybe the next couple of places can be more low key?” Sharon suggests.

  
“Of course! I’ll get right on it. Just send me your info and I’ll look for places more within your requirements. Sorry to have wasted your time.”

  
“Don’t worry about it,” Steve chimes in, wrapping an arm around Sharon’s waist. His fingers itch slightly lower than is probably proper, and Sharon bites her lip. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

 

* * *

 

The next few places Sherri shows them are fine. Fine being the optimal word there. The places are clean, in decent neighborhoods, and have all of the things that Steve and Sharon are looking for, but they just don’t seem to _click_. And Sharon knows that that’s slightly ridiculous, to be looking for something that she’s not even sure exists, but Steve feels the same way when she tells him what’s on her mind.

  
“It’s not stupid,” he had said while she spotted him lifting weights in the training room. “We have to find a place that we’d want to spend the rest of our lives in. Obviously we should like it.”

  
“I knew I loved you for a reason,” Sharon had whispered, leaning into the bench to kiss him.

  
“That’s cheating,” he had gasped, and she’d laughed, helping him place the weights back on the bar.

 

* * *

 

When Sherri takes them to a place in Brooklyn after having seen about thirty other homes, Sharon’s all but given up.

That is, of course, until she sees the look on Steve’s face when they pull up to the place. She knows about his history. It’s one of the many conversations that they’d had while getting to know each other. The apartment isn’t near his old neighborhood, but she can still understand why he reacts the way that he does.

  
Home is home.

  
And the place is beautiful. The apartment is red-bricked, with wide (but not too wide) windows and across the street from a coffee shop.

Sherri seems to notice the look on Steve’s face, too, because she says “This place has everything you guys are looking for. If it’s not the one, then I’ve failed at my job.”

  
She leads them through it, room by room, and Sharon squeezes Steve’s hand tightly because she feels it. This is it. She moves through the living room and imagines her and Steve’s furniture in it, can picture Clint’s kids running around and Tony kicking back in the kitchen.

  
“This is it,” she whispers, looking up at Steve, half in wonder and half in love both with the place and with him.

  
“Yeah,” he whispers back. “I think it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can u guys tell that i have no idea how to buy a house lmfao


	24. I Love You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i combined 2 anon asks again. one was "Staron + 'why have you been acting so weird lately?'" and the other was "Staron + sharon being scared of a relationship because she doesn't know how to open up and let people in"

In the end, Sharon realizing that she was in love with Steve wasn’t some huge, earth shattering moment. (That’s not to say that they haven’t had their earth shattering moments. The first time they had kissed, bloody and bruised after an awful battle in the middle of a Russian winter, Sharon had felt that stupid feeling that all romance novels talked about, but she had never believed in. It was sparks and energy and even though she felt like she was dead on her feet, kissing Steve had made her feel alive more in that one moment than all of her previous relationships put together.)

But finally understanding that she loves him is a whole different story.

They’re sitting on the couch in her apartment, Sharon’s feet on Steve’s lap while he sketches in his notebook. She looks up from the book that she’s reading and studies his face, the way his forehead crinkles when he’s concentrating, his bruised knuckles that are curved around his pencil.

She still can’t believe that they’ve reached a point where they can be like this, so comfortable and at home with each other. The fact that they even have a day off in the chaos of their lives is so foreign to her, but Sharon doesn’t want to be anywhere else, doesn’t want to be _with_ anyone else. Just Steve, only ever Steve. 

He looks up and gives her a quick smile, fleeting and distracted before he goes back to his notebook, and Sharon thinks _I’m so in love with you_. It doesn’t feel like a revelation. It just feels right and natural, like home. It feels like something she should have known for a long time, and that’s what makes her nervous.

Of course her first reaction to this is panic. She quickly pulls her feet out of Steve’s lap, tucking them underneath herself. He throws her a confused look because she’s probably made him mess up his sketch, but she says nothing, just buries her head in her book, sinking lower into the couch.

How had she let herself get to this point? How had she let herself be so careless? Everything, _everything_ that she’s worked so hard to create for herself is gone. No more walls, no more secrets, no more _job_. She has Steve and she doesn’t even care, doesn’t even want anything else. Her heart races in her chest.

She’s been an idiot, too complacent, too _happy_ , to let herself think of the consequences. What will happen when Steve decides she isn’t worth all of this? What happens when she loves him so much but he doesn’t love her anymore?

Sharon is completely and utterly _fucked_.

 

* * *

 

She starts avoiding his calls and texts. It’s not on purpose, exactly, but every time she sees his name on her phone’s screen she panics, heart racing. She doesn’t know what to say, just stares dumbly at it until it’s too late and she has a missed call or an unanswered text waiting for her.

It’s like they’re starting to date all over again, but even worse now, because she loves him and she doesn’t know what to do, torn between never wanting to see him again and screwing it all to hell and telling him about it. 

Two weeks of “Are you okay?” texts and “Call me” voicemails go by before people start noticing that something is up. Natasha’s the first, calling Sharon to basically yell at her for a half hour before switching the conversation to some leaked files that they need to get a hold of. 

“You’re an idiot if you think he’ll ever stop loving you,” Nat had snapped before changing topics, but Sharon still had a pit in her stomach the size of Texas and she didn’t know what to do about it. So of course the only thing she _can_ do is avoid it, which only makes things that much worse. 

 

* * *

 

Steve comes up behind her one night after a team workout, cornering her against the washroom sink and scaring the shit out of her. Sharon tenses up when he places his hands on either side of her waist, pressing his body up against her back. She hates the way she shudders when he does it, hates her own pathetic reaction to his breath on her neck and his lips against the shell of her ear. 

“Why have you been acting so weird lately?” he murmurs, and it takes her a full minute to respond, more breathless than she would have liked to be. 

“I haven’t,” she protests weakly, and Steve lets out a sound in her ear that’s totally unconvinced. 

“Come on, Sharon. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. You know you can tell me anything.” She does know, and that’s the problem. When had he become the one person in her life that she could trust with everything? When she was younger, it had been Tony, and even more recently, it had been Natasha. Sharon doesn’t like this feeling of dependency, like she _needs_ Steve. She hasn’t needed anyone since she was a child. She liked talking to her friends, but this was different. 

“It’s nothing,” she insists again, shrugging away from his imposing frame. “I’m just tired, okay?” She doesn’t look at him when she leaves, just throws out a “I’ll see you,” as if that’ll make things better. 

It doesn’t. 

 

* * *

 

Missing date night is the last straw. Sharon holes herself up in her apartment on Friday night, turning off her phone and turning herself into a blanket burrito on her couch in order to not think about her problems. 

And even then, watching Legally Blonde doesn’t help her a bit, because she starts crafting parallels between Steve and Emmett and everything kind of goes downhill from there. 

There’s a knock on her door halfway through the bend and snap scene and she lets out an annoyed groan, not wanting to extricate herself from the comfortable position that she’s currently in. 

The knocking gets more insistent, though, so she finally makes her way to her front door, wrenching it open. It’s Steve, hand halfway poised to knock on her door again. 

Sharon’s mouth falls slightly open. It’s not like she hadn’t expected this. She knew at some point or another he’d come after her, she just didn’t know when. The hurt and half-angry expression on his face twists her insides. 

“Hey,” she says weakly, and he raises an eyebrow. He’s wearing a suit, probably what he was going to wear to wherever they were going tonight. Sharon glances down at her own Captain America pajamas, an inside joke between them. She hadn’t even noticed that she’d put these specific ones on earlier, the action becoming so ingrained in her normal routine. 

He’d ripped it off her on more than one occasion. Sharon’s skin burns with the memories of it, his hands and his mouth and his everything. She loves him. She’s _missed_ him. 

Steve shoulders his way through the door and shuts it behind him, not even letting her protest as he does so. Sharon turns around and stands in front of her door awkwardly, wrapped in her blanket as he paces the floor of her living room in front of her. 

“Did I do something?” he finally asks, letting his arms drop in defeat and looking up at her. 

Sharon bites her lip, shaking her head. Her is trying to force its way out of her chest and she has no idea how to make it stop. Why can’t she just _say_ something? 

“Did I say something? Sharon, please, just give me a clue here. I have no idea what’s going on with you. Do you not–” he pauses, licking his lips, and her eyes are drawn to them immediately. She wants to kiss him so much. “Do you not want to be with me anymore?” 

“No, Steve, I–” her throat is dry. She swallows, tries to think of how to explain it to him without sounding like a complete loser. “I’m in love with you,” she blurts out instead, and his eyes widen as he takes in the information. He takes a few steps towards her and Sharon shrinks into herself, using her blanket as a shield. “I didn’t– I don’t know how to do this.” 

He takes a few more steps closer towards her, more cautiously this time, and when he finally makes it he cups her face in his hands. 

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” Sharon tries to explain. “I’m so scared, Steve,” she whispers, gaze dropping to the floor, unable to look at him. “I’m terrified. Of losing you, of you not feeling the same way, and I just don’t–”

“Hey,” he says softly, tucking a hand under her chin. “Look at me. Sharon, there is no way that I could ever not feel the same way, okay? I love you. You’re not going to lose me.” 

“I feel so stupid,” she sighs as Steve leans in to kiss her forehead. 

“You’re not. I just wish you’d told me sooner,” he says, chuckling lightly, and Sharon shakes her head in embarrassment. 

“I just didn’t know how. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

“I love you,” she repeats, and Steve leans in to kiss her. She doesn’t know how she’s been able to go this long without this. 

“I love you too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell i've run out of things to title these by lmfao


	25. Listen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon asked "Staron + 'you're all that i need'"

Sharon likes talking to him. Not kissing, not having sex, just talking. Don’t get her wrong, the other things are great, too, but she’s never really been in a relationship where the conversation was all that stimulating. 

There had been Kevin, back in middle school. She’d dated him for all of two weeks and the only things they had in common were the bands they listened to and their hatred of Mrs. Sweeny’s chemistry class. 

There was Rick, back at the Academy, which had been a complete disaster. He’d only been dating her because she was related to Peggy, and all he ever wanted to talk about was just that. “What was she like?” he used to ask, “Do you have any pictures of her?”. That relationship had ended basically before it had even started. 

Steve, however, listens. She likes that. That she can say whatever crazy thought that’s bubbling up in her brain and he’ll listen to it and not dismiss it, ever. She likes that she feels like she can tell him anything, because she really can. 

Their conversations vary. One night during dinner Sharon had started thinking of a picture of a cat she’d seen on the internet, which, you know, so original. But Steve’s still getting used to the internet and he laughs when she shows him it, anyway, even though their conversation had previously been focused on more serious matters. 

“Cats are amazing,” she had said, and Steve had smiled at her like she was talking about astrophysics or something. “I think I’d like one.” 

“I think I like you,” he had said, and that made Sharon lean over the table to kiss him because she didn’t know what else to do. She more than just liked him. 

 

* * *

 

The thing with Steve is, he’s a perfectionist. He either gives something his all or he doesn’t bother, and Sharon loves that about him. What she doesn’t love is the pressure that he puts on himself, the way that he beats himself up when things go wrong. 

So he forgot to make the reservation, big deal. It’s not like she was dating him for the food. Sharon was more than happy to kick her heels off and go running around in the park, which she’d suggested after they stopped by their favorite coffee place. 

It was late, practically midnight by the time they got there and made it to the park near where Sharon had done some of her old drills back at the Academy. She sipped on her coffee, now nearing its way to being completely cold, but she found that she preferred it that way. It reminded her of iced coffee without the effort of paying for it, and Sharon loved iced coffee. It was one of humanity’s greatest creations. 

So now she’s had the chance to experience her coffee both warm and cold, and she feels like she’s buzzing, tugging Steve along to sit down on the swings with her. She throws her heels off haphazardly, pushing off the ground as he watches her. 

She knows he’s upset about the reservation. She can see it in the way that his forehead creases as he watches her swing, despite the smile that’s working its way onto his face. 

“Do you believe in fate?” she blurts, just to get his mind off of dinner, and because she just wants to know. Being here reminds Sharon of the Academy, which reminds her of Aunt Peggy, which reminds her of, well. 

She doesn’t have a problem with it, not really. Steve had had a thing for her Aunt Peggy way back when, but honestly, who didn’t? They’d talked about it at length, and it didn’t bother either of them. Sharon had been extremely insecure at first, fearing another Rick situation, but she learned quickly that Steve wasn’t like that. 

When he loved, he loved with all his heart. And he loved her. She knew that. 

“Why do you ask?” he says as she slows to a halt. Sharon shrugs, kicking her feet through the playground sand. 

“I don’t know. Maybe I do. Is that dumb?” 

He looks at her, scooches over closer to her in the limited space he has on the seat. The chains whine in protest, but Sharon and Steve ignore them. He brushes his fingers over her cheek, breath even and steady. Yet another thing she loves about him. The solidity of him. The constancy. Her eyes flutter closed for a second as she leans into his hand. 

She opens them again and leans forward, runs her hands over his chest, his broad shoulders. Smiles up at him. 

“Nothing you say could ever be dumb,” he says, and Sharon laughs. 

“Dunno, some of the stuff Tony gets me to say is pretty dumb,” she tries to protest, but Steve shakes his head, grinning. He leans in for a kiss and Sharon gives in, just for a second, before pulling away again. He looks at her in confusion. “I think… I think that it’s always been you, Steve,” she tells him, and she doesn’t know what to make of his expression afterwards. 

It’s somewhere between euphoric and kind of sad, so she tries to pull away even further, but Steve’s hands on her arms stop her. “It’s you for me too, Sharon,” he finally says, and Sharon doesn’t know why but all she can feel is relief. She knows that he loves her and yet there’s always been a tiny part of her that had wondered, that had internalized all of the tabloids and the gossip about Peggy. 

He brushes his thumb over the knuckles on her left hand and she smiles at him. “I think I’ve been waiting for you for a long time,” he says. 

Sharon, ever the poet, blurts out, “I also think it’s dumb that you get so upset whenever plans don’t go our way. You know that you’re all that I need, right?” 

“I do now,” he answers, smiling. 

“Good.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> titles, man. what even are they


	26. Diaper Duty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon asked "Staron + 'it's your turn to change the diaper'"

A cry from the baby monitor startles Sharon out of sleep, causing her to jump up in bed and accidentally knock Steve in the face. She’s so tired that she can’t even think to apologize, simply reaching for the monitor on her bedside table to slap at it like it’s her alarm.

Steve’s awake instantly, gently grabbing her arm away from the monitor before she causes irreparable damage. Sharon groans as it lets out another screeching sound, finally opening her eyes completely to look at him.

He’s clearly amused, lips turned up at the corners in a smirk. Sharon glares at him, trying to pull her thoughts together in order to form a complete sentence.

“It’s your turn to change their diapers,” she decides, flopping back down in bed. He laughs, sliding his hand underneath their covers to tickle her. Sharon lets out a squeal, unsuccessfully trying to kick him in the stomach to throw him off. “Steve,” she whines, finally forcing him to stop. She sighs, now definitely awake, and rolls over on her side to look at him. The babies are still crying.

“You’re torturing them,” she says, and Steve throws the covers off, kissing her before he gets out of bed.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he teases. Sharon rolls her eyes.

“You’ve been gone for two weeks,” Sharon protests. “I deserve this.”

“That you do.”

“Don’t forget the wipes,” she throws out before he leaves the room, and he turns around to give her a quick mock salute. Loser.


	27. Hashtag Married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked for my version of this gifset: http://stevesharons.tumblr.com/post/137056996361/back-room-lets-talk-captain-america-9-1998

Sharon cannot believe that Steve is doing _this_ , _here_ , _now_. Everything about it is so completely wrong, which just makes her feel sick for enjoying it in a weird, perverse way that she knows she shouldn’t. 

Sure, kicking Hydra goons is fun and all, but there is a certain thrill that Sharon used to get whenever she and Steve argued, mostly because she knew that it would likely end up in make-up sex. 

But she and Steve have been avoiding each other since their breakup. They haven’t fought together in a long time, and even more pressing at the moment is the fact that they haven’t _fought_ in a long time. So when Steve makes some backhanded comment about Sharon’s lack of desire for a family right after she launches a guy through the window of the bar that they’re currently ransacking, she turns around to glare at him. 

“Back room,” she snaps. “Now.” 

 

* * *

 

“What the hell was that?” she hisses at him once they’re in the room. (She really should’ve though it out better. It’s dark, even with the light on, and the room is cramped. She hasn’t been this close to Steve since they were living together.) 

“Nothing. Forget it,” he spits back, equally as frustrated. What Sharon doesn’t quite understand is why all of a sudden he’s angry with her. They haven’t had this conversation in a long time. 

“I’m sorry, I thought you were the one who said we weren’t ready to start a family. Do I look pregnant to you or something, that you had to attack me like that out there? On _comms_ , I should add.” 

Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, throw that back in my face, why don’t you? As I recall, _you_ were the one that didn’t want kids. This isn’t a one way street here, you know.”

“Well who was going to babysit for us?” Sharon demands of him, stabbing her finger into his chest. “Can Nick Fury change a diaper? You think Natasha knows what kind of baby food to buy?” 

“This is ridiculous, I can’t _believe_ we’re still doing this–”

“Rogers! Carter!” a voice calls from outside of the room. “We need you!”

Sharon lets out an annoyed sound, knocking her shoulder against Steve’s chest as they leave the room. 


	28. Our Friends Are In The Other Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon asked "Staron + 'can you keep your voice down our friends are in the other room'" and there was more to this but i suck and already wrote something that didn't fit the other half of the prompt lmfao gOd

“I don’t want to talk about this right now, Steve,” Sharon hisses, shouldering past him to try and leave the kitchen. He grabs her arm, not roughly, just enough to stop her from leaving. 

“You never want to talk about it,” he snaps back, and Sharon rolls her eyes, tired and angry and just slightly tipsy. Her moods are always enhanced when she starts drinking, and tonight she happens to be extremely annoyed. 

The number one reason being that she hadn’t wanted to come to this stupid thing in the first place. Sharon loves Tony like a brother, considers him a brother, even, but he has parties basically every weekend, and this one isn’t that much different than the others. Booze, music, cheesy board games, all of that is fine and good. But sometimes she’s just so exhausted from work that the only things she wants to do are doze off on her couch for a bit, maybe order some Chinese food, and then sleep some more. 

Steve had insisted, though, probably because he saw that she was in a mood and was trying to cheer her up, but it wasn’t working. 

“Can you keep your voice down? All of our friends are in the other room.” Sharon glares at him, extricating her arm from his grasp. “And I never want to talk about it because _I don’t think it’s a good idea_ ,” she emphasizes, like she’s told him hundreds of times before. Sure, moving in together would be nice, but Sharon’s not ready. The last relationship that she had had been a disaster, and she didn’t really want a repeat. And she liked her apartment, despite its size. SHEILD had provided it for her when she’d left the Academy, and she was used to it. 

She still had the furniture that Aunt Peggy and Angie had helped her pick out, the photographs of her family across the walls. Sure, it was hard for her to have a lot of people over, and even worse trying to squeeze Steve and herself into her bed at night, but she just _wasn’t ready_. 

“Why not?” Steve demands of her, as if this isn’t a good enough reason. Which, it isn’t, but it’s not like she’s going to admit that to him. 

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because I’m broke and we live in two different states?” she barks, “Or maybe it’s because you’ll probably end up breaking up with me and I’ll lose the only thing I have left of Aunt Peggy?” Sharon’s eyes widen when she shouts that last one, slapping a hand over her mouth in shock. 

Steve’s eyes widen and he reaches for her, but Sharon flinches out of his grasp. She looks around for something stronger than wine. 

“Sharon,” he says, voice softer and less agitated than it had been a few moments ago. “Why didn’t you tell me–”

“It’s not a big deal,” Sharon mutters, staring at the kitchen tile. “I’m not good at– at talking,” she finally admits, looking back up at him. He sighs softly, opening his arms in invitation, and Sharon feels herself unable to resist, like a magnetic force is pulling her towards him. 

“We can still keep your apartment if we move in together, you know,” he murmurs against her hair, rubbing her back. 

She looks up at him, resting her chin against his chest. “You’d do that for me?” she asks, and he furrows his eyebrows. 

“Of course.” Like he hadn’t even considered anything else. “Being an Avenger does have its perks,” he explains, and Sharon laughs, feeling lighter than she has all night. “And just for the record, I won’t break up with you,” he tells her. “I’m in this for the long haul.” 

“Me too. I really am, please know that. I’m just– all of this is new to me. It’s sort of terrifying.” 

“It is to me too. But I’m here, okay?”

“I am too.” 

“Now let’s get back out there before Tony starts making dirty jokes.” 

 

* * *

 

Natasha’s the first to notice they’re back, the little matchmaking sneak. She raises an eyebrow at Sharon and then motions to her phone, expecting a full play by play of the argument. 

Tony’s the first to make a comment, unsurprisingly. “Lover’s quarrel over?” he asks, causing Sharon to roll her eyes in response. Pepper smiles warmly at her, throwing Sharon her typical _please excuse his behavior_ look. Sharon smiles back. 

Steve settles into one of the couches and Sharon snuggles into his side, suddenly sleepy and extremely at home with his arms around her. She lets out a tiny yawn as he addresses Tony. 

“Don’t see how it’s any of your business,” he quips, “but yes.” 

“It’s my business if you guys did something dirty on my kitchen counter,” Tony says, his mouth downturned in disgust. 

“Oh, ew,” that’s Sam. 

“You’re gross,” Natasha. 

Nose crinkle, Wanda. 

Eye roll, Sam. 

Elbow to the gut, Pepper. Sharon laughs the loudest at that one. 


	29. Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon requested "Staron + Sharon telling Steve that she lost the baby"

It’s the first and only time that she’s ever been scared of him. Scared to talk to him, more specifically. Scared to tell him about what had happened to her. Sure, she’s been nervous, angry and upset and a million other things _of_ him, but never scared. When they’d first gone out for coffee she had uncharacteristically spilled her latte on her lap and they’d awkwardly fumbled as Steve had tried to wipe it up, and she had laughed so hard that she snorted, and he just looked terrified, and it was amazing. He was amazing. 

Sharon loved Steve like she had never loved another person in her entire life. It was new, exciting, and surprising in so many ways. He never failed to make her laugh, to confuse her, to make her wonder how she had ever found a single guy interesting until she’d met him. Which is what makes this entire situation even worse, because now she can’t look him in the eye and she can’t bear to have him touch her or else she knows that she’s going to break down. 

 

* * *

 

Tony was the one that took her to the hospital. In the chaos of everything that Steve was going through, the long missions and seemingly never ending search for Bucky, Sharon had woken up in their bed covered in blood, and the first person she could think to call was Tony. 

She couldn’t even speak. She had pressed on his name and waited for him to answer and the second he said “Hello?”, Sharon had let out a choked sound and cried something incomprehensible. He drove over right away, not even asking her what was wrong, just acting. He opened her front door with the key she made him months ago, ran into her bedroom, and cleaned her up as she sat, lifeless, in silence. Sharon remembers how numb she had felt, hands resting over her stomach as Tony had cupped her cheeks and tried to get her to speak.

She just couldn’t. She’d stared out the window of his car during the drive to the hospital in silence, sat in the waiting room in silence as Tony signed her in, lived through the CT SCAN in silence. She’d been quiet as the doctor spoke to her, quiet on the way back to her and Steve’s apartment. 

It wasn’t until Tony tried to leave that she broke down again, clutching at her sides like she’d been shot, begging him not to leave her alone. She was all alone now, without Steve, without her baby. He or she was still inside of her, dead. Her baby was dead. It was dead and they’d scheduled an appointment to have it out and it was _dead_. That was all she could think of every day before and after the surgery, all she can think of now that Steve’s looking at her with concern and love and confusion. 

 

* * *

 

Steve’s home and she doesn’t know how to tell him. She’d been ignoring his calls, skipping work and just lying in bed day after day because she no longer had the energy to walk. She barely even had any motivation to eat. Natasha would come over sometimes and force soup down her throat, but Sharon’s body seemed to reject even that. 

A part of her spitefully thinks that this is what happens when you let your guard down. As soon as you let someone in everything gets ruined. The universe gives you your five minutes of happiness and then snatches it away from you again just as quickly. 

After Aunt Peggy, after Tripp, after her parents and Tony’s parents and all the deaths in between, this is the last thing that she had ever expected to happen to her. She stares at the pamphlet in her hands that she’d left on the kitchen table since she’d got it, looks up at Steve on the other end of the couch. 

He had come home expecting a warm welcome, and what he got was a Sharon that didn’t know how to _be_ anymore. She had shrugged off his hug and curled into a corner of the sofa and watched as his forehead creased when he sat down next to her and she flinched. He’d scooted farther away after that, hurt and obviously betrayed, still in his stealth suit. 

It’s too quiet. 

Sharon has no idea how to fix it. 

No one had even _known_ that she was pregnant. Maybe some part of her had sensed that she would lose it, and that’s why she had kept it a secret. She had wanted to surprise Steve with the news when he got home, and now she has to surprise him with something else, something infinitely worse. 

“Sharon–” he starts, and she shakes her head before he even gets that out. 

“SteveIhavetotellyousomething,” she blurts, all one word, twisting her hands into the blanket that she hadn’t taken off in days. He brows crease together. Sharon’s heart is thumping so hard that it hurts. She’s shaking, unable to meet his eyes. “I lost… I mean, I _was_ … I… fuck.” Sharon buries her face in her hands, runs her fingers through her greasy hair. Steve eases closer to her on the couch. She doesn’t shrink away this time. 

“Sharon, you can tell me anything, I thought you knew that by now,” he says. Sharon nods again, bottom lip quivering. 

“I was pregnant,” she forces out. His eyebrows rise exponentially. “We were going to have a _baby_ ,” Sharon chokes, waterworks coming again for the first time in weeks. It’s like she’s _reliving_ it. “And I lost it.” He’s quiet again, pulling her in for a hug and letting her sob into his chest. “I’m so–I’m so _sorry_ ,” she cries, shaking against him as he tries to calm her down. 

“Shh,” Steve whispers, “you have nothing to be sorry for. _I’m_ the one who should be apologizing,” he insists. “I wasn’t here for you.” 

“I don’t know what to do.” Sharon’s never even wanted kids, but the week after Steve left she’d missed her period and taken a test and gone to the doctor, and had finally though to herself, _Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad_. A little girl with Steve’s eyes and her hair and maybe Aunt Peggy’s smile. Or a little boy that liked to steal Steve’s costumes and run around the house. And now that chance is gone and she doesn’t know if she can handle it happening a second time. 

“We’ll get through it together,” Steve tells her, and Sharon climbs into his lap, trying to fuse herself to him, and they sit there like that for hours and Sharon thinks that maybe she might be okay, as long as he’s there with her. 


	30. First Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon asked for "steve and sharon's first kiss or/and steve telling sharon his feelings for her"

There’s blood on her face and she feels like an elephant is sitting on her chest and she’s just been through arguably some of the _worst_ hours of her life (seriously – getting kidnapped by an organization that presumably doesn’t exist, losing her phone, _Natasha_?) and she just–

“Fuck it,” she spits, launching herself at him. 

Sharon’s always been what some would call adventurous, but she does like to think things through, contrary to popular belief. This – this isn’t thinking. This is pure adrenaline, pure want, months of pent up tension and frustration finally reaching the surface. 

Steve lets out a grunt as he catches her around the waist, eyes widening in surprise as she basically assaults him with her face, not that he’s complaining. Sharon kisses him with everything that she has in her sleep-deprived body, yanking at his hair and going for it like half the Avengers aren’t in the room. 

When she pulls back they both gasp, catching their breath, and Sam lets out a wolf howl that really helps to put things back into perspective. She flushes, burying herself in Steve’s chest to hide her face and buy them some more time. 

“Who knew you had it in you, Rogers?” Natasha teases. Steve’s grip on Sharon tightens ever so slightly, a sign that he’s not as cool as he’s been playing it. Sharon laughs, voice muddled by the fact that she’s leaning into him, and they finally break apart and put some distance between them. 

“Can we focus now?” Tony asks, completely ruining the moment. Sharon’s going to have words with him later. 


	31. Forehead Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reblogged an ask meme on tumblr, anon asked: "♦ stevexsharon please", which was forehead or cheek kisses

Steve is drunk. It’s the first and only time that Sharon has ever seen him drunk, considering it’s nearly impossible for it to happen to him in his super-soldier state. Thor– and can we just stop there? Because Sharon, Sharon Carter, great niece of the founder of SHIELD, Agent Margaret Elizabeth Carter, has just met a god. An honest to G– well, fuck. A god. Of Asgard. Which is real, apparently. 

Obviously Sharon knew that Thor was part of the Avengers. She knew this. Still, she had spent a good five minutes trying to wrap her head around the fact that other worlds existed as Thor had joked and gotten caught up with the rest of the team. Sharon had always prided herself on being calm and collected in the face of celebrity, considering the way that she’d been treated at the Academy for her relation to Peggy, plus just the way people just treated Tony and Aunt Peg on the regular in general. So she was cool, or she thought she was, at least, until she had met Thor. Because knowing of other worlds and seeing aspects of them on the news, or learning about them secondhandedly through her paperwork, was one thing. 

Having actual, concrete proof in the form of a Norse god was another. 

Thor had given Steve some special magical booze that had actually worked on Steve well enough to get him, if not completely plastered, at least tipsy enough to start smiling a lot more than normal, and just a little bit handsy. He’d been fine for the first two hours or so. Nat had told Sharon before that Steve could pretty much drink on pace with Thor without it affecting him, even with the magical booze, but Sharon suspects that he’d let his some of his reservations go tonight, and she appreciates that. She’s always trying to get him to have more fun, and she’s glad that he was finally listening to her. 

Still, after his hands started wandering from the small of her back nearer to her thighs, she decided to call it a night. It was more PDA than she was used to showing in public, and she knew Steve felt the same, despite his newfound confidence. 

They’d taken the subway to Avengers Tower earlier in the night, because Steve had insisted (“You can’t call yourself a real New Yorker if you never use the subway, Sharon”), so now it’s late and they’re slowly making their way back to the station.

Steve isn’t at the stumbling stage (yet), but he’s swaying slightly as they make their way into one of the cars. He steadies himself against a wall in the corner and Sharon stands across from him, holding on to one of the many metal poles and smiling amusedly. They stand quietly for a few stops before he speaks again. It’s not empty in their car, but it’s empty enough for him to be able to let his guard down and speak freely with her. 

“You have such pretty hair,” he tells her, reaching out to finger the ends of it. Sharon presses her lips together to keep from laughing, but leans slightly into his touch anyway. 

“You’re drunk,” she points out. Steve’s lips quirk into a grin, as he twists a finger around one of her curls. Sharon doesn’t always do her hair, but she’s glad she did tonight. Maybe she’ll do it more often now that she knows how much he likes it. 

“Tipsy enough to have no filter,” he corrects, stretching out his arms and reaching for her. “C'mere,” he insists, pulling Sharon towards him, wrapping his arms around her waist. She goes willingly, stumbling slightly as the car shakes with movement. 

“Love you,” he murmurs, tilting her chin up to press a kiss to her forehead, then buries his face in her hair. He breathes in deeply, hands drifting again, and Sharon laughs, moving out of his reach. She doesn’t want to give the few people that are near them a show, no matter how much she’s enjoying drunk Steve at the moment. 

“Love you too, big guy,” she smiles, patting his chest. “Now come on, this is our stop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if any of you follow me on tumblr, you know that i don't only write steve/sharon in my drabbles (even though that's what most people ask me, and i have no problem writing them because they're my favorite). i have written some sharon/bucky though, and might write other stuff in the future if i get requests for it. what would u guys think if i added those to this collection? or should i start a new collection just for sharon drabbles in general? lemme know what you think!


	32. Stitches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also part of an ask meme, anon asked: "♟+ ♥, staron! :)", i chose the patching up a wound one

Sharon has gotten used to dealing with these kinds of things on her own, no matter how awful and uncomfortable they were. At the Academy, before she was comfortable with Bobbi and Mac, she’d had to patch herself up all the time. The students there were driven, almost to a fault, and her last name hadn’t helped that in the slightest. Sharon had tried to keep it a secret as long as she could, but they were persistent, and they _were_ future SHIELD agents. There really was no hiding it. 

So she had had her fair share of cuts and scars and bruises, even after she had found friends that she could rely on. She wasn’t really comfortable showing her weaknesses, _especially_ because of her relationship with Aunt Peggy. She didn’t need to give anyone any more reason to suspect that she had gotten in on less than her merit alone. 

It’s different with Steve. Different because they’re the same, if that makes sense. Just like her, Sharon’s come to understand, he hates to show his weaknesses to anyone, hates to admit that he needs help. He’d tried to look for Bucky alone, tried to fight the Sokovia Accords alone, tried to get over Peggy’s death alone. He’s been alone for so long, just like she has. They’re both slowly starting to realize that maybe being alone isn’t the best thing to be. 

After two weeks in Reykjavik following up on some Hydra leads, they get accosted by Rumlow and his crew and barely manage to make it to one of their safehouses. They’re both cold and tired, unsteady on their feet after more than a day without sleep. Even Steve, despite his enhanced body, was shivering slightly as they stumbled their way through the door and into the empty cabin. Sharon curses, clutching at her side as he helps her onto the couch and helps her tug her wet layers off. She’s bleeding through all of them, slightly woozy from the loss of blood. 

Sharon hisses as her final t-shirt layer stubbornly sticks to her bloody skin when Steve tries to help her take it off, biting her lip as he peels it away. The gash that Rumlow (or, as he likes to be called now, Crossbones) had given her is a deep one, running from the side of her left breast and curving down towards her belly button. She’s going to need stitches. Steve presses a hand against it, trying to stop the bleeding, and they meet eyes. 

It’s bad, she knows it’s bad, but she’s had worse. “I’ll get the kit,” Steve says, and she nods, replacing his hand with hers at her side. He runs upstairs and returns quickly, with kerosene, the first aid kit, and a few towels. There’s already wood in the fireplace, so Sharon waves at him to start the fire first. “You sure?” he asks, brow furrowing. His eyes dart towards her wound. 

“I can handle it,” she quips tightly, grabbing the kit from where he’d placed it on the couch. She gets the needle and thread ready, cleaning herself up with one of the towels. It soaks up quite a bit of blood and she already has the second towel pressed to her side, searching for the disinfectant, while Steve finishes lighting the fire. He makes his way back over to the couch, sitting down next to her, and his hand finds hers as she tries to go in for the first stitch, wincing. 

“Hey,” he murmurs. Her eyes look up to meet his again. “Let me help you.” It’s not unexpected, but the gesture still catches her by surprise. He’s constantly surprising her, whether it’s out in the field or at home, with his kindness; the way that he cares about her in a way that no one else ever has. 

She hands him the needle, holding his hand slightly longer than necessary, and closes her eyes, taking a shuddery breath. His thumb strokes the side of her hand. “Ready?” he asks. 

Sharon’s breath hitches in a laugh. “Go for it, Captain.” 


	33. The Lonely Hearts Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon asked "I'd love a fic set in the time when Steve still believes Sharon is Kate and when Sharon gets stood up for Valentine's Day, Steve obviously believes Kate was stood up and takes it upon himself to be her Valentine?"

Sharon doesn’t realize that it’s Valentine’s day until she’s sitting on the floor in front of her apartment door, locked out and wearing a ballgown. Her phone is dead and she has a knife strapped to her thigh, her purse in a taxi somewhere, along with her keys. 

She could have easily scaled the side of the building and gotten into her apartment that way, but she hadn’t wanted to act suspicious, especially now that she’s on Steve duty twenty-four seven. Sharon had memorized his schedule pretty easily: early morning runs, late night workouts at the gym, anything to get him out of the house and moving. She knew what it was like. After her parents died, she had done anything and everything in order to keep her mind off of the grief. 

The last thing Sharon is expecting, however, is the sudden click and snap of Steve’s apartment door unlocking. She either over or underestimated the time that he would be leaving for the gym, and she straightens a little at the sight of him, panicking, thinking of a quick excuse. 

He’s distracted, hands busy with locking his door, but he starts when he turns around and sees her, practically lying dejectedly, like a sad kitten, on her own doorstep. 

She’s not. Dejected, that is. Her mission had gone extremely well, besides the whole losing her keys thing. Sharon had been sent in to get some key intel from a Russian ambassador, suspected to be helping Hydra. Hence the ballgown. She’d gotten into the party easily, had sidled in next to Anatoly like she belonged by his side, and had schmoozed him for most of the night. 

His room key was easy to get; the intel even easier. Sharon was home before ten. 

The keys had been complete incompetence on her part, her mind preoccupied with Peggy’s last phone call and thoughts of Steve and SHIELD. It was by pure luck that she had taken her phone out to browse through her text messages before paying the cab driver. She’ll need to replace her locks, that’s for sure. 

But there are other pressing matters at hand. Like the fact that Steve is looking at her like he’d just kicked her puppy. “Kate,” he says, surprised. He’s never seen her dressed up before, and Sharon knows that she looks better than usual, but it can’t be that shocking. “What are you– are you okay?” he settles on, twisting his hands and shoving them in his sweatpants’ pockets. 

Sharon gives him a twisted resemblance of a grin. “It’s not every day that a girl gets stood up,” she tells him, trying to joke. If anything, this job has certainly improved her acting skills. (Not that they were great to begin with.)

Steve grimaces. “And on Valentine’s Day, too,” he mutters. “What an asshole.” The side of his mouth curves up. “If you’ll excuse my language.” 

Sharon huffs out a laugh, trying to hide her realization. Valentine’s Day, of course. She’d been so intent on finishing the mission that she’d forgotten. She shrugs, grabbing the heels that she’d discarded at her side, and stands up to meet him at eye level. “No, he was an asshole. And I was so upset that I managed to leave my keys in the cab. Which is just my luck, am I right?” 

She almost wants to laugh at the intense frown on his face, the way that he’s so concerned about her. It’s sweet. Even real guys that she’s dated have never been this worried about her dates, let alone imaginary ones. Sharon has no idea how big the hole she’s digging for herself right now is, but she’s made the lie and now she has to stick with it. 

“Have you called the super?” Steve asks, and Sharon shakes her head. 

“Phone’s dead,” she says, flashing the black screen at him. He turns for a second, still speaking, and starts to unlock his door. 

“You can use mine.”

“What are you doing?” she laughs, as he pushes his door wide open and turns back towards her. 

“I am taking you out, Kate Dawson,” he declares, smiling mischievously, and she can’t help but laugh again. Not only because of his use of the fake last name that she’d gotten to choose (she was a huge Dawson’s Creek junkie when she was younger, sue her) but also because this is the most unexpected end to her night. She doesn’t protest, though, just enters his apartment, and he shuts the doors behind them. 

 

* * *

 

Steve provides Sharon with his phone, first, so that she can call the super, Al. It’s not that late, but he doesn’t live in the building, so he won’t be there for another few hours because of the short notice. Sharon doesn’t mind. The next thing Steve does is fish out an old, smaller pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for her to wear. It’s not the cutest outfit to wear on a holiday like this, but it’s infinitely more comfortable than the black, strapless, floor-length gown that she’d been wearing. 

He lets her have the bathroom to change. Sharon has no idea what to do with her knife, because it would be visible in the pants, so she chucks it out the bathroom window and prays that no rowdy teenagers find it in the bushes. Hopefully she can go retrieve it in the morning, but it’s not that important. All that matters is that Steve doesn’t see it. 

She feels a twinge of guilt in her stomach, hating the fact that she has to lie to him like this. Sharon had argued and argued with Coulson, and even Fury, but their orders were strict. They wouldn’t let her just befriend him as Sharon. Too risky, they said, especially with her relationship with Peggy. God, _Peggy_. It was awful keeping this from her, too, but there was nothing she could do about it. Orders were orders. 

Sharon steps out of Steve’s bathroom, clutching the dress, and Steve takes it from her, folding it gently and setting it on his couch. Sharon smiles at him. She can’t stop doing that: smiling. It’s the most she’s smiled in months. 

“After you,” he gestures towards the door, and Sharon can feel her mouth tugging up. There’s just something so _sincere_ about him. Even now, knowing that he’s keeping his SHIELD life and his past a secret from “Kate”, Sharon senses only honesty and kindness from him. It’s refreshing; exciting. 

“You’re not going to tell me where we’re going?” she teases, and Steve shakes his head, smiling again. 

“It’s a surprise.”

 

* * *

 

Steve throws her a helmet when they get outside, gesturing towards the bike. “You’re okay with this, right?” he asks, like she’ll be afraid, which is so adorable that she laughs again. 

“Yes, Steve. I’m a big girl.” His eyes are slightly dark as he takes in her form, dressed entirely in his clothes. She can see him swallow a bit. 

“I can see that.” 

It’s quiet as they both straddle the bike and Steve starts the engine, Sharon’s arms wrapped around his incredibly muscular stomach. She can feel his heart beating underneath her hands as he drives them to wherever he’s taking her, soft underneath the layers of his clothing, but steady. When she’d read his old files, Sharon had learned of the extent of his physical issues before the serum: asthma, heart palpitations, almost anything you could think of. 

There’s none of that now, at least on the outside, physically. She can tell that he’s still the same guy that Aunt Peggy had spoken so highly of on the inside. 

 

* * *

 

Steve pulls into a tiny, old fashioned ice-cream parlor fifteen minutes after they leave the apartment, and Sharon’s eyes widen slightly when she sees it. 

For one, she can’t even remember the last time that she’s been on a date. It had to have been at the Academy, for sure. And even then, their options had been limited. Only upperclassmen had free reign of DC, and the right to have cars on campus in order to leave as they pleased. It was still super strict, besides, their hours carefully counted, sign-in sheets for going out or coming in. Sharon had never studied as hard as she did at the Academy. 

She turns to Steve in surprise because aside from the aspect of being on an actual date, or, in this case, a replacement date, Sharon has never seen this place before. She had thought that she knew all there was to know of DC: all of the secret nooks and crannies, the best places to get burgers. 

He just keeps surprising her. 

“Is this okay?” he asks for the second time that night, and Sharon bites on her bottom lip. No one’s ever really asked her what she wanted, what she liked, what she wanted. All of this is new to her. 

“Of course. Who doesn’t like ice-cream?” she asks him, and his eyes sparkle with something, and Sharon thinks that she doesn’t want this night to ever end. How different it is, to not be herself for a while. To be just a girl, on a date with her cute neighbor, eating ice-cream and laughing like teenagers. No responsibilities, no SHIELD, just them and the open night sky. Before her doubts about Aunt Peggy can creep in, before she can remind herself that he is a job, nothing more. 

Steve takes them to the window near the side of the shop and they both order three-scoop cones. Steve pays and they make themselves at home at one of the three tables in front of the shop, underneath a cute red umbrella. 

Sharon doesn’t think she’s ever laughed so much in her life. Their ice-cream melts along their knuckles while Steve tells her stories of him and his friend when he was little, and even though she knows he’s talking about Bucky she pretends not to. The stories are funny, but she can tell that he’s leaving details out, because how can he tell plain old Kate that he grew up in the 1920′s and still looks like he does today? 

Even with all of this, they grin at each other and Sharon tells him her own stories, omitting her own facts, and they both lean over across the table and feel as though they haven’t felt anything in years. 

A phone ringing startles them away from each other, Sharon leaning back in her wooden chair, almost not being able to believe how close they’d been; practically touching foreheads as they were speaking. “It’s Al,” he mouths at her, and Sharon nods in understanding. The super. 

Their night is over. 

Steve hangs up and grabs Sharon some napkins from the take-out window, holding his extra helmet for her until she’s done cleaning herself up. Their fingers brush when he hands it over and Sharon tries not to jump back at the electric shock of it, her first un-forced, un-scripted touch of the night. 

“I had a great night tonight, Steve,” she whispers into the crook of his neck as he drives them back to their apartment building, so quietly that she doesn’t expect him to hear, but of course he does anyway. Super-soldier hearing; she’d forgotten. Sharon seems to forget a lot when she’s in his presence. 

Her hands shake uncharacteristically when she feels him shudder, just the tiniest bit, as her breath hits his ear. “Anytime,” he answers, and she closes her eyes, leaning into him for the short time that they have left. Before she has to be Sharon again, before he has to be Captain America again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been in sort of a writing slump lately, but i'm working on it.


	34. Steve Gets A Haircut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for a 5 word prompt on tumblr, "steve + 'just don't fuck it up'"

“Just don’t fuck it up,” Steve sighs, finally agreeing. Sharon snorts so hard that she has to cover her mouth and the subsequent sounds that leave it. 

“He has a mouth on him,” she laughs, in hysterics for the first time in weeks. They’ve been staking out the same target for what feels like an entire year, living across the street and pretending to be a married couple (not that she has any problem with that). 

All they’ve been focused on is work, work, and more work, and it’s gotten to the point where Steve’s hair is growing so long that Sharon barely recognizes him. 

It was a good look, for a while, until it had grown way past the point of normalcy. They didn’t want to leave the house for fear of missing any important developments, so Sharon had offered to cut it for him. 

She hadn’t expected him to be so resistant, though. Sharon blames it on him spending too much time with her. He’s starting to pick up on her “language”. 

“I mean, we don’t have to,” she tells him, offering an out. “You can come back to SHIELD looking like a caveman, if you want. No one’s stopping you.” 

“Ha ha. Just get it over with.” 


	35. Aunt Angie's Famous Cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the 5 word tumblr prompt, "stevesharon + 'how about you make me?' (bonus points if there's that Sexual Tension™)"

It’s a rare day of peace and quiet at the tower, one of those days where it’s raining and everyone is piled up on the couch and nothing seems real, especially the outside world. Time seems to stand still as Sharon watches Natasha tease Tony in the living room of Steve’s floor, Sam try to hush them both, and the catfight that arises as a natural result of having all of them in the same room. 

Sharon loves it. 

What she wants in this moment, more than anything, is to forget everything that’s happening around them and just take it in. Of course, Steve is being infuriating like always, which at least gives her something to spend her energy on, if not thinking. Sharon hates thinking, hates her overactive imagination and the awful things that it can come up with. 

No. Instead of that, she’s going to focus on the fact that Steve is insisting on putting walnuts in Aunt Angie’s special cookie recipe. Tony, if he weren’t too busy bickering with Natasha like always, would’ve chewed Steve out if he had heard what Steve was saying. Right now, though, Sharon’s the one that has to listen to his blasphemy. 

“What’s wrong with walnuts?” Steve asks, as if he isn’t trying to ruin some of her favorite childhood memories on the spot. 

“Besides the fact that they’re disgusting,” Sharon replies, making a face, “they also clearly do not belong in this recipe, which I have had memorized since I was fifteen. Don’t ruin this, Rogers.” 

“Oh, come on,” he murmurs, arms bracketing her against the counter, breath right in her ear. This shouldn’t be allowed, she thinks fleetingly, eyes catching the size of his hands and the calluses on his fingers. No one’s hands can be _this_ good looking. No one should be able to have this effect on her. “Just a few. For me?” 

Sharon’s not one to back down from a challenge, though. She spins around so that they’re chest to chest and she’s backed up against the kitchen counter. She sees Steve swallow a bit and smiles at her small victory. “How about you make me?” she asks him, enjoying the spark of danger in his eyes a little too much for her own good. 

“Are you done?” Natasha calls from the couch, always the one to make things awkward and laugh at the result. She thrives on making Sharon’s love life as difficult as possible. (Still, she’d met Steve because of Nat, so she can’t be that angry at her.) “Some of us would like to eat our cookies some time this century, Sharon.” 

Steve laughs and Sharon can feel it in her entire body, his own pressed tightly against hers. He pulls away, the moment over, but one of his hands lingers near her waist. Not a total loss, then. 

“Yeah, yeah, Romanoff. Not my fault the Russians didn’t teach you how to cook.” 


End file.
